The Colonel & Marianne
by kalinmarie
Summary: One-Shots of Colonel Brandon and Marianne's life together, starting after he rescues her.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Hey people! Long time no see. I haven't published a story since 2014, I believe. I've missed writing, but life has been so busy, I've just left it behind. But, I am back now! I am considering returning to my old story Leaving Gotham to finish it, but until then...I'll be posting some fun one-shots! This is my first time ever writing for Sense & Sensibility (which, btw, don't own it!) and I've enjoyed trying to capture my two favorite characters, Marianne and Christopher Brandon. I see my characters as Kate Winslet and Alan Rickman, oh, how I'll miss Alan! I hope you all enjoy!**

Marianne wasn't the smartest Dashwood sister - Elinor took that place, with her great knowledge of the world and it's history, it's languages, it's people. She didn't have the confident charm that Margaret, the youngest, had _(even though that same charm often got her into trouble, it was also the very thing that made everyone love her so.)_ come by so naturally. Where Elinor had her wit, her ability to talk to others no matter how they spoke or what they spoke of, her charisma, Marianne had her love for passion, for love, for romance. If her company did not suit her, she had the tendency to turn off her ears, so to speak, and let her thoughts journey elsewhere. She wasn't rude, nor did she dislike many people, but she could not hide her true personality as well as her sisters and mother. Willoughby had been like a breath of fresh air for her - finally! A man with great passion, with a knowledge of literature, a man who could quote Shakespeare in such a way that she knew would've enchanted the writer himself. A man who did not desire to hide his feelings, a man who would show people how he felt not only by words but by his actions. Looking back, she could see why she would've fallen for him so quickly, as a younger and less experienced girl. But when she thought back, and remembered everything, and saw things as they truly were and not just how Willoughby had fooled her into believing they were, she saw how much love and passion the man really lacked. She remembered Elinor telling her of the Colonel's story, about how Willoughby had fooled another woman the same way he had fooled her. True passion and love could not be removed and then copied again so quickly for another woman. How had she missed it? Had she been that desperate for a suitor?

Her mind was snapped back to the present when she heard a familiar voice, one that she had been growing more and more fond of. "Miss Marianne," It said, sounding as if the words were made of velvet. "Are you well?" It questioned. She turned her head, a small smile growing on her face. Not long ago, she'd been bored to death by the Colonel's presence, but she hadn't been willing to hear him in those days. Her thoughts were only for Willoughby, her respect only for Willoughby. If only, she thought wistfully, I'd noticed Brandon sooner. She couldn't fib to herself, in the recent days, after her fever, after him carrying her such a long ways and staying day after day to ensure that she was on the mend, she'd begun feeling things for the man that seemed to pale in comparison to what she felt for John Willoughby. Where her emotions for the younger man were exciting, fresh, passionate, thrilling...her feelings for Colonel Brandon were much different. He gave her peace, comfort. She seemed unsettled whenever he wasn't around, as if a part of her was missing. Her romantic side practically swooned at his heroics, when she thought of him rescuing her. They spoke of things that she doubted Willoughby ever would've taken seriously, or wanted to hear about. He even listened to her babble about new dresses and her unimportant studies and her simple daily life. He was interested in her, not only for grand thoughts, fine literature and her ability to play the pianoforte. He was captivated by her every word, concerned for her.

 _He was in love with her._ She had known it for weeks now, but suddenly, the idea of him feeling that towards her wasn't so unwelcome. Suddenly, she wondered how it would feel to be wrapped in his embrace, to hear him plainly speak to her and tell her precisely how he feels about her.

She finally broke out of her reverie to answer him, her dazed expression confusing him. "I am very well, Colonel. Just stuck in a daydream, I suppose." She leaned back against the tall tree that was behind her. It had become their spot for reading in the hotter days, a nice shelter from the bright sun. He walked closer before claiming the spot next to her as he usually did. He tried to ignore the fact that their calves barely touched - he had sat much closer than he usually did, not quite realizing how close they would be before he had already come down. But despite him assuming that she would find an excuse to move, to stretch her legs and sit differently, he found that she had done the opposite. Her body seemed to gravitate towards his, not quite close enough to be improper. He tried to hide his shock, clearing his throat and sliding his hand into the pocket of his coat to retrieve his book of sonnets. Marianne still complained of headache if she tried reading too long, she wasn't as strong as she used to be after the fever, but he didn't mind reading for her. She had tried reading a brief poem the last time they had met together, a few weeks ago, he'd been out of town, but she set his book back down on his lap, a playful smile _(one that he had only caught very rare glimpses of since she had grown ill.)_ playing on her lips. "You must read, Colonel. I'm afraid my own voice is boring me, yours is much better. You've spoiled me!" She had said, causing the Colonel's face to grow pink with slight embarrassment.

"How was your trip, Colonel?" She inquired after a moment, taking the small book out of his hands casually as he struggled to find their place. She leafed through the pages, wearing a content smile. How different she seemed to be in his company! Comfortable, happy, even. His heart seemed to swell even more than it usually did when he was in her presence, and he let himself hope, only for a second, that she would perhaps grow to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed hers.

"Uneventful and boring, as business trips usually are." He answered, taking the book out of her hand sneakily and laughing as she gave him an offended look. "I believe we were closer to the middle of the book. Shame, I believe my bookmark has fallen out somewhere."

"Well, surely your days could not have been more boring than mine!" He raised his brow, book forgotten for the moment, waiting for her to continue on. "I'm afraid that I must forbid you from leaving me anymore, Colonel, for my days are quite dull without you! My mother refuses to let me out of her sight unless I am with you or Elinor, because, according to her, you two are my only mature friends, and she is still worried that Margaret would miss the signs of my fever returning and allow something to happen to me! But with Elinor so busy with wedding plans - oh how excited she is! - I have been stuck in my boring, old, stuffy house, to stare out the window and wait eagerly for your return!" He tried so hard to hide the smile on his face, joy most likely plainly written _(too plainly, a man shouldn't reveal so much emotion to a woman he is not even in an agreement with.)_ but tried as he might, he could not hide it. She had missed him? Waited for him? He continued the conversation, attempting to seem halfway normal around her.

"Surely the new song I had left with you kept you busy for a few days, Miss Marianne." He had given her a new song, one that he had ordered weeks before but forgotten to give her until he had left, composed by one of her favorites. He was spoiling her, he knew, and perhaps treading on dangerous water to be so invested in a woman who had shown no interest in him romantically _(but he was not blind, and knew he saw something different in her eyes today, as she gazed upon him.)_ but he could not help himself.

"One can only play so much on the pianoforte before growing tired of hearing oneself." She explained. "I do love the song, though. I hope you stay long enough today to be able to hear it!" He nodded, deciding it wouldn't be wise to tell her that he would wait forever in order to do anything she desired, even if it meant staying so long he'd have to ride in the dark. Yes, he realized. He was on dangerous ground, but there was no telling his heart to tread safer. He was in love with Marianne Dashwood, and as he looked at her, her face animated and over dramatic as she complained to him of her boredom...he realized he'd happily give her his heart forever, no matter the cost or outcome.


	2. A Carriage Ride

Authors Note: Just a short one-shot, I admit I'm quite exhausted so I'm very unsure on how I like this one, but I wanted to get another one up quickly! Thank you all so much for your sweet reviews!

Marianne watched her sister and future brother in law with fondness, taking Colonel Brandon's gloved hand as she made her way into the carriage behind them. His touch, though his hand was covered, distracted her from thoughts of Edward and Elinor's future wedding _(which was coming up very soon! And oh, were the Dashwood's overcome with joy!)_ and sent her mind elsewhere - towards the unfamiliar romantic thoughts of Colonel Brandon. She realized then that she wished he had taken off his glove, so that she could feel his warm skin on her hand. He had held her hand once, during a short walk through the gardens. She still was not as healthy as she'd like to be, and frequently had dizzy spells. He had given her his hand and stood close, so close that his coat brushed against her skirts, offering her his strength when her own was nearly nonexistitent And the sensation of her small, frail hand in his much larger one seemed to have awoken feelings that she hadn't realized she had before. And those feelings had only grown stronger since then. When she was in his presence, she felt...at peace. And when he was gone, she felt as though there was a hole inside of her that was only filled when he returned. After he read to her, his voice seemed to fill her mind for the hours to come. How hadn't she realized how warm and lovely his voice was before? Or seen how much passion he had for literature, just as she did? The idea of a romance with Colonel Brandon no longer seemed so ghastly as it had before. His friendship, while it was once more of an annoyance for her months ago, had become one of the things that she held most dear. She had surprised herself when she first realized how close she had truly gotten to the Colonel, like when he had to leave for London for a week and she found that she missed his company and their daily conversations fiercely.

Elinor and Edward sat by each other, heads leaning towards each other as they spoke in soft whispers about anything and everything, eager to have a moment of peace together before they arrived at the Palmers for their dinner party. Colonel Brandon sat by Marianne, careful to have a respectable distance between them. Willoughby had tainted her reputation enough, and though they were practically alone, knowing they were the furthest thing from Elinor and Edward's minds, he wanted to be sure that he didn't do anything that could possibly taint it any further. Even if his hands were itching to hold hers again after he helped her into the carriage. Besides, he thought, she had given him no reason for him to believe that his touch would be desired.

"I believe they are rather looking forward to their wedding." She said, glancing up at him with a smile. "I can hardly believe they've managed to wait this long to be married!" The couple had decided to wait for marriage until Edward had settled in his parish, in order to make sure that his home would be suitable and prepared for his wife long before her arrival, despite Elinor's argument against this when he first suggested it. Elinor, unlike her two sisters, did not require nor desire many fancy novelties or trinkets. All she wanted, she had told Edward, was to be his wife and partner, and all she needed was a place to sleep, food to eat, and clothing to wear. She did, however, enjoy the time that they had before becoming man and wife. She had confided in Marianne, telling her that she was thankful to have had the ability to have extra time to get to know her betrothed better. Of course, they would learn many more things about one another when they were tied together by marriage, but there was no denying that this time of courtship was sweet and something to be treasured.

Marianne realized, as she gazed upon them with excitement and happiness, that she envied them. If her face could turn colors, she imagined it would be green with the envy she felt deep in her heart. Do not be mistaken, she was filled with joy, she felt that joy from her head to her toes, for her sister. She had never expected that her sister would find true love, not that she was unlovable by any means, but because Elinor was realistic. Too realistic. Where Marianne was full of sensiblity, Elinor had sense. She would've settled for a good man, a Godly man, who would take care of her and their future family. She would've been happy with a good man, even if there was no true love in their relationship. She could've lived a life without romance and passion..but Marianne was so pleased that she didn't have to. Marianne wondered if her envy was simply left over remorse and anger over how her relationship with Willoughby had ended on such terrible terms, over how she had allowed herself to be swept away so quickly and fooled so easily by a man like Willoughby - and what for? He had been everything she had desired in her entire life, but those things were simply the outside part of a man. Had she cared about what was on the inside? She hadn't worried about his heart, hadn't bothered to ask him about his beliefs on important things, on if he wanted a family, on what he needed in a wife, or if he had even wanted a wife in general. How had she been so foolish?

"Miss Marianne," Colonel Brandon started, turning his head towards hers sublety, as to not draw attention. He kept his voice low and quiet, concern painted clearly in his eyes. "Are you well? You have been silent for the entire ride, and you were quiet in the cottage as well." As usual, Colonel Brandon was perceptive, as usual. He had learned many things about Marianne since he had met her, and he knew that when she was silent, she was either ill, or upset. If she was in such deep thought about good things, she wouldn't be able to keep her thoughts to herself. She, he had realized, had very little control over her mouth. It was something that most people would be annoyed with at times, as she also did not seem to have a filter and she had no desire to hide her feelings on certain matters ( _or people!)_ but he felt that it was a breath of fresh air. It was pleasant to be around someone who did not hide their true feelings. He remembered Mrs. Jennings telling her that she would have to consider settling down, to be a proper woman like Elinor, or her sister in law, if she wanted to find a husband. No husband, she had warned Marianne, would want a wife with her personality, not unless it had been tamed. Colonel Brandon would gladly take her as his wife, wild personality at all. He couldn't imagine Marianne losing herself in such a way.

"I am well, Colonel Brandon. My thoughts seem to have taken over, I suppose." She looked up at him with the intention of giving him a smile, and beginning a conversation. They were not quite at their destination, and she did not want to spend the entire journey in utter silence. She had given up any hope for conversation with the couple in front of them, but she was still hopeful for one with the Colonel. She had missed him, she realized, after not seeing him for days. But when she looked up, lifting her chin towards him, she saw how close they were. If she leaned in, just slightly, their noses would graze each other. Her mind went to a place that she had never been, placing an image of herself, lips in a soft, shy embrace with the Colonel, and she quickly turned her head down as fast as she had looked up, hoping to hide her blush. _What was coming over her?_


	3. A Start

**Author Note: Another one-shot! :) I want to thank you all so much for the kind reviews, every single review so far has put the biggest smile on my face! I appreciate it and I hope you all enjoy this. I believe my next one may be about Marianne's attempt at getting our dear Colonel to laugh..hmm. Any ideas on what she might do? ;)**

She had never been so sick in her life. Thoughts of the nights she spent shaking in her bed, the bed clothes damp with her sweat from the fever, still horrified her. She did not think she would make it through that time. She thought that, surely, if her body did not fail her completely, her heart would break into pieces and leave her sick for life, yearning for what she could not have. The fever she could bear, but the aching in her heart was so strong, she felt as though someone had stabbed her in the chest. But day by day, she began seeing the light at the end of that tunnel. Her fever finally broke, and although her body was still weak, weaker than it had ever been before, and the doctor had told her that she would most likely have effects from it for the rest of her life, she was out of danger. But, even as she began feeling better physically, her heart still felt just as sick. She had tried talking to Elinor, explaining her feelings, hoping that letting things out in the open to be free would help them fly away. But, as hard as she had tried, the feelings remained. Her mother had tried talking to her as well, even sat with her for hours a day, praying with her that God would grant her peace and healing. What she needed the most, she thought, was an escape from her room! Although the doctor had told her that she no longer risked losing her life, she was still too weak to do much more than sit up in her bed. Moving too much made her body ache and tremble. She was left alone with nothing but her feelings to mull over. Her sisters and mother could not spend the entire day with her, of course. What she needed was freedom, an escape from her heart, her emotions.

That escape had come in the form of a man that she least expected. _Colonel Brandon._

When he had first asked her if she would like company on his free days, she had only agreed out of desperation. She felt like if she spent another hour in solitude and quiet, she would go mad. Her head ached too much when she tried to read, and of course, playing the pianoforte was simply out of the question. Even if she could get up and walk to it, the music would make her head pound even more than her beloved books. And she couldn't ask her family to sacrifice even more time for her just because she lived in boredom. But after the first day in his company, she realized that she was looking forward to seeing him the next day. She had never heard him read out loud, but she realized on that first day, she had been missing out on one of the most beautiful voices she had heard. Of course, she had heard him speak before. They'd had countless conversations, all boring and of no consequence, and she now realized that he was simply too afraid to speak of more interesting topics. After all, she had been with Willoughby, and Colonel Brandon was a respectful man, regardless of how he felt in regards of John Willoughby. He would not assume, and attempt to grow closer to Marianne unless he felt his attentions would be desired, or at the very least, not a burden. Marianne wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed how rich his voice was, or how she had not realized what passion he had for literature, just like herself. But more importantly, she finally saw what her eldest sister and mother had seen, what they had tried opening her eyes to. She saw how much he cared for her. Why else would a man like him, highly respected and quite busy, offer a girl like her so many hours in his day? Just to read, and talk? He asked nothing of her, expected nothing. He was content, happy to be with her and offer support, and entertainment. Willoughby, she knew, was never this kind.

She sat up in her bed, back propped up with a mountain of pillows behind her, as Colonel Brandon read on. They had been enjoying sonnets by Shakespeare in the recent days, and just moments ago, after he'd taken his seat, he told her of a new book he had found, full of poems and short stories by a new writer he'd discovered. He had brought home a copy and given it to her, to save for the day when she could read by herself again. To give her something to look forward to. He came to the end of the page, raising his head slightly and showing her his small smile, hardly noticeable, and gone just as quick as it had come. She wanted him to truly smile, she realized. To see his teeth. Had she ever even seen him laugh? She pictured him in her mind, face bright and happy, his head thrown back in laughter, shoulders shaking. The image in her mind made her smile, and wish for a way to make him laugh.

"Miss Marianne?" She felt her cheeks turn pink at this wods, suddenly noticing that he had stopped reading, and had been looking at her with a... _what was that expression?_ There was great fondness there, in his soft brown eyes, but something else. She had seen that look before, never pointed towards her, but she had seen it. She remembered seeing it in her father's eyes, God rest his soul, when he saw her mother. She had even seen it in Edward Ferrars eyes, when he came to their cottage and his eyes found Elinor's. The emotion there, so unrestrained, was enough to make her breath catch. That is love, Marianne Dashwood realized. _He loves her?_ She knew he felt fondness towads her, but she had always thought that his affection was only friendly - he felt sorry for her, pitied her, but surely, that was the end of it. How had she been so blind?

"I'm sorry, Colonel." She apologized, eyes finally meeting his. "I suppose I'm still rather tired." At her explanation, he started to rise from his seat, and she gathered that she had said the wrong thing. "I should take my leave then, allow you to rest." She didn't understand her emotions at all. Months ago, she wouldn't have been effected by his presence at all, let alone been upset that he was leaving. She didn't know why her feelings had suddenly changed, but she did know that she was not quite ready to be away from him, not yet.

"Please, Colonel," She started, sitting up straighter as she mustered up enough strength to lean ever so slightly to grasp his arm lightly. He had been sitting quite close to her bedside, it was easy for her to reach him. She felt a rush of energy, a spark, when she held his arm, and the surprise of it nearly took her breath away. She had never touched him like this, and it felt so very different than how it felt when she was with John Willoughby. It felt right, never improper. She felt safe, knowing he'd never break her heart. "Do not leave just yet, unless you simply must." Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for her next words. She was unsure, unsure of what she was about to say, but her heart and mind would keep her awake all night unless she was honest with him.

"I must admit, Colonel, I am rather miserable when you are not here. My sisters and my mother, they are wonderful company, of course, but one can only tolerate so much conversation about wedding plans, oh, and of course, bandits. Margaret's imagination is even more tiring than my fever!" She had worried that she would regret her words. She did not tell him she loved him, or give him a sort of flowery speech, or recite a romantic sonnet, but she had admitted more to him concerning her feelings more than ever. She admitted that she missed him when he was gone. It was a start.

He smiled, this time, almost bearing his teeth, but he seemed to hold himself back before too many of his emotions showed. "If you wish, Miss Marianne." He found his seat again, and wordlessly took the book off of the small table he had placed it on, and cleared his throat, ready to begin again. Marianne leaned back in her pillows, her heart at peace in the presence of the Colonel.


	4. A Mission

**Authors Note: I believe I'm quite happy with this one! :) I hope you all enjoy! Don't forget to review!**

Marianne realized, weeks ago, while she was still confined to her bed, that she had never seen Colonel Brandon laugh. She had caught very rare glimpses of a real smile, teeth baring and all. But she had never seen the man laugh. More often than not, Colonel Brandon was the absolute perfect picture of a respectable, stoic gentleman. When he smiled, he did so politely. Everything he did, she thought, slightly exasperated, was done politely! She could not imagine spending her entire life as he has spent his, always proper and, dare she say, uptight. She was almost certain, no, completely certain, that somewhere in the Colonel lay a more energetic soul, one that would welcome laughter and smiles happily. And so, that had become her mission. To make the stiff old Colonel laugh, and perhaps, even relax a bit as well. She had seen hints of what she thought was the real man, behind his mask so carefully placed when he was in public. When he read to her, now that they were more comfortable in each other's presence, he would read with more passion. He even - at her silly, half-joking request - imitated various characters in her books, his usually very appealing voice changing to match whatever character he had been reading about, making her laugh so hard her head pounded with headache! But even then, he smiled his polite smile in response. She knew, she simply knew, that he had to be holding back some amount of playfulness. He was no longer a child, not even close, but the joy that she saw in his eyes in moments like these made her realize just how much the Colonel was most likely hiding from the world. And why? Perhaps, thought Marianne, he was simply too afraid to show it, worried that no one would accept it, or even care. How many people did he have to confide it? That he could truly trust?

She sat in her seat outside, the sun shining on her face as she leafed through her book. She heard the sound of hoofbeats pounding against the road, and she glanced up to see Colonel Brandon, the very man that entertained most of her thoughts these days, galloping towards her family's cottage. He had been gone, somewhere in London, most likely, for the last few days. He refused to tell her the exacts of his location, claiming it was a secret, and her curiosity had pestered her since he had left!

"Miss Marianne!" He acknowledged her, slowing his horse and dismounting with ease before the horse even had a chance to stop. He tied the horse to one of the fence posts before walking to her, revelling in her warm smile cast towards him. How she had changed in the last weeks, he mused. Where months ago, she had been completely unconcerned with his presence, she now seemed to welcome it. Desire it, even. He removed his riding gloves which had been stained with mud, placing them in his coat pocket before holding a hand out towards her, calloused from years of horseback riding and God knows what else. Marianne realized that she knew very little of his past times, and put the thought in her mind, planning on inquiring later. "I have a surprise for you, but I'm afraid I must have you leave the cottage for a few moments." She lifted a fair brow before taking his hand, attempting to ignore the feelings it seemed to awaken. She begrudgingly removed her hand from his once her feet were firmly planted on the ground, but then slipped her arm through the bend in his arm, Colonel Brandon looking down on her in shock before hiding his surprise and returning her smile.

"A surprise, Colonel?" They began walking, leaving her mother and sisters, who had been seated near the window, in silence. He would have never assumed that her mother would allow them to walk together alone, so surely, they knew of this "surprise" as well. Marianne's head began churning in attempts to find out just what the Colonel was up to. "And what ever may this surprise be?" She questioned. Colonel Brandon looked towards her, a funny look on his face. "If I told you, Miss Marianne," He took a look behind them, another smile growing on his face. She turned to look as well, but he gently pushed her forward. "It would not be a surprise. And no looking behind us, it would spoil the surprise just as much as my telling you."

"You may kill me with the suspense, Colonel." She joked before turning serious. They had walked quite far from the cottage, and she noticed Margaret walking quite far behind, just close enough to chaperone them. The cottage was no longer in sight, and so she thought that she could stop him for a moment. "May we stop? Just for a moment." She requested, and he obliged, stepping towards a large tree at the side of the dirt road they had been travelling on. "Of course. I hope I have not asked you to exert yourself too much. You've just now gotten over your fever-" She cut him off, shaking her head, curls going every which way - she had not pinned them tight enough that morning, worried that it would bring on headache.

"No, no, I am fine." She took a breath before continuing. "Colonel, I wanted...I wanted to thank you. For everything you have done for my family." She glanced around the open field behind the road, seeing Margaret walking aimlessly, giving them space to talk, she knew. Colonel Brandon opened his mouth, to argue, she assumed, but she spoke quicker. "Please, do not argue with me. You have given Mr. Ferrars and my sister a home, you saved me from a certain death when I was so foolish. You have given my family so many things, and you have been our greatest friend. And I realized that we've never properly thanked you. You are family, Colonel. I hope you know how much we care for you."

The Colonel turned his face from her for a moment, and she fretted over her words. Did she say something wrong? Was she too emotional? But just as she was preparing to speak again, to apologize, or do something, anything to stop his silence, he turned back, and she saw the remnants of the tears he had been fighting back. "It should be I who thanks you, and your family. I have not had such dear friends in years, and I cherish every moment I spend in your-in your family's presence. And the things I've done, they have brought me far more pleasure to give them than the pleasure they bring your family in receiving them." He beamed at her, taking her arm and placing it back in the crook of his and began his walk towards the cottage with her in tow, Margaret following not far behind. "And I assure you, I have never been more grateful to God for bringing me to you that evening. I do not want to imagine a world without you in it." His words made her breath catch, her heart feeling as if it had swelled ten times it's regular size. Willoughby had never said such sweet words to her! And to admit this, admit that he would have missed her, it took great courage for him, that she knew.

"Now, I believe that surprise should be settled in the cottage. Shall we go see what it is?" With a mishchevious grin, a look that Marianne Dashwood had long since mastered, she broke away from Colonel Brandon, took her younger sister by the hand, and galloped off on the road, laughing at his humoured face. "Keep up, Colonel!" She yelled through her burst of giggles.

As she ran, she heard the most wonderful sound she had ever heard.

Colonel Brandon ran behind her, rich, deep laughter following her, belonging to the Colonel. "As you wish!"


	5. Butterfles

**Authors Note: Wow! It has been forever since I've updated, many apologies! I've been having computer trouble, and I've been so busy I have hardly had time to even take a moment to plan out some one-shots. I plan on writing a couple more drafts tonight and hopefully finishing some more for you all for this upcoming week! Enjoy! Don't forget to review!**

Marianne had always been fond of horses - even more so than Margaret. She loved the thrill of riding upon their backs, and even just walking through the pastures of Norland used to bring her incredible joy and peace of mind. So, when Colonel Brandon had invited her and her sisters to see his stables at Delaford, she had been the first one to accept his offer eagerly. Margaret, of course, was quick to accept as well, and was out his door before he had time to even open it. Elinor politely declined, and Marianne knew why - Edward had joined them for dinner at Delaford at Colonel Brandon's request, only the second time the men had met after the eldest had offered him the parish. Elinor wanted to soak up and enjoy as much time as they had together, knowing that they would be parted for over two weeks before their wedding. In all honesty, Marianne was glad. In the last few weeks, she had been feeling the most peculiar and confusing emotions, and butterflies seemed to make a home in her belly and fluttered about every time the Colonel was close to her. Even a small smile painted on his lips was enough to make her giddy. Margaret would be excited to ride, as always, and, being the brave and adventurous girl that she is, she would ride ahead of them, exploring the property and not paying her sister and family friend an ounce of attention. This would give her a chance to talk with the Colonel, and think about those butterflies.

Colonel Brandon's stable hand assisted them once they had met up with Margaret, two side saddles slung over each arm. She was surprised to see the Colonel walk into the small room of the stable where the horse tack was stored, and come out bearing his own saddle and bride. He chatted easily with the stable hand for a moment, discussing all sorts of things Marianne wouldn't even attempt to understand, about horses, the stable, and work that needed to be done. He eventually waved him off to his chambers to rest, although it was quite early in the evening for him to retire. Soon, the Colonel was leading his horse out to be prepared for the ride, while two beautiful sorrel mares stood patiently waiting for their riders.

"Oh, Colonel. He's marvelous!" Marianne exclaimed, eyes widening slightly at the sight of his horse. She wasn't very knowledgeable on the big animals, she admitted, but she knew beauty when she saw it. And of course, she had seen him riding the very same black horse many times before, but always at a distance. She had never seen an animal so exquisite.

"Thank you, Miss Marianne." He replied, tossing a saddle upon the horse's back. "He's one of the finest I've ever owned." He finished with him and led him closer before tying his reins loosely to a post and taking a step towards the two sorrels. Margaret bounced impatiently at the side of one, the mare pointing her ears towards the sound of her shoes on the dirt, curious.

"I'm afraid Miss Margaret claimed Lily, the horse on your left, on her first visit to Delaford. You'll be riding Adella. She's the calmest of the two, I'm afraid she lacks spirit, so you may need to give her a firm kick with your heel every so often to keep her moving." Marianne nodded, stroking the white blaze adorning her head. She glanced up to see that Margaret had already mounted her horse, and she laughed. "Margaret! How on earth did you mount by yourself?"

"Practice, dear sister." Her sister turned, a playful smile on her lips, and kicked her horse into motion, riding off ahead of them as she had predicted. Once she was far enough and she was completely focused on her riding, she felt safe to glance at the Colonel, surprised to see he was already looking at her with the most peculiar expression. She saw such... _fondness_ there. She broke their eye contact, and nearly convinced herself that whatever she saw was simply because of Margaret's antics and the amount of sass trapped in her small body. Surely, the love that seemed to make his eyes light up was a brotherly one toward her little sister. They had grown quite close, she knew, and Margaret happily soaked up all the time that he was willing to spend with her. After growing up with a brother like John, having the Colonel around was a breath of fresh air for her. Before she could think on it any longer, he began speaking. "I'll help you onto Adella, if you don't mind. I'm afraid Jackson, my stable hand, recently injured his back and isn't quite up to much lifting, so you'll have to put up with me." Her face reddened at the thought of him being so close. Since when did his presence stir up such a blush?

"Of course." How she managed to speak without stuttering must've been the grace of God!  
He came around, wrapping an arm around her waist, and the butterflies took flight in her stomach, feeling much stronger and larger than they'd ever been. He lifted her easily, as if she weighed no more than a feather! Suddenly, he didn't seem quite as old as he seemed when she had first met him. She was soon firmly planted in her saddle, legs in their proper place. With his back now turned away from her as he went to mount his own horse, she felt safe to turn her gaze upon him more openly. He swung his legs over the horse with such ease and strength that she had never seen before.

"Give her a nudge and she should be content to follow me. If not, don't be afraid to be stern with her."

"Alright." She said, slightly under her breath. She had ridden many horses, and she had quite a fine seat. She was sure of herself, confident, on the animals, but he mistook her voice, out of breath and shaky, and assumed that it was due to nerves. Just as they began walking leisurely towards Margaret, he turned the black stallion quickly and faced her again, hat casting shadows upon his eyes. "Miss Marianne, if you would rather not ride-"

"I want to ride, Colonel." She insisted, willing herself to forget the emotions that plagued her for just a moment long enough to convince him. She worried that he would think her nerves were from him, that the thought of spending time with him made her uneasy or unhappy, when she felt anything but. "Truly, I do. It's such a beautiful day and I would quite like to spend it with you." She caught herself, surprised at her own answer. "And Margaret, of course."

Her blunder, although she knew she was far too honest with him, and almost... _flirtatious,_ seemed to save the day. He smiled and for the first time in the day, it seemed to reach his eyes. It was a smile she had seen before, when he had read to her, and told her he would be going away. When she had asked him, once again, too honest and open about her feelings, how long he would be away. He was different than other men, she knew for certain. Despite the fact that most men would be offended by a woman's honesty about her feelings, especially if they were not in an agreement, he seemed to love her even more for it. If anything, he welcomed her honesty.

He nudged his horse forward, smile still on his face, and seemed to take a moment to think about his words before speaking, as always. We compliment each other, she realized. Where she spoke too quickly, too soon, without much thought most of the time, he thought his words through. Every single word, he sifted through and made sure it was something worth saying.

They rode off again without a word, and she only hoped he didn't notice how long her gaze would linger upon his back, and how she purposely stayed behind him so she could watch him without his eyes on her. And with the setting sun illuminating him, his silhouette dark, strong and handsome against the oranges, pinks and reds of the evening sky, she wondered how she hadn't noticed him, or the butterflies in her stomach, much sooner.


	6. A Wild Bird

**Authors Note: A bit of a short one, but I was in the writing mood tonight and felt like doing a oneshot with our favorite Colonel and his good friend, Sir John! The next oneshot will either be a big one, him confessing his feelings towards Marianne, or perhaps one from this very night in Marianne's point of view. We shall see where the plot bunnies take me! Don't forget to review!**

It was a cold and dreary day at Delaford, fire roaring and warming the large room that Colonel Brandon sat in, comfortably sat at his chair with a book propped in his hand gently, almost reverently, as his dear old friend, Sir John, sat closer to the fire's warmth. He chatted away, conversation straying anywhere to the dogs, which were barking at something at that moment outside, at a wild animal, no doubt, eager to hunt, to his new favorite topic, the Dashwood's. Particularly the middle sister, Marianne Dashwood. The man was one of the first _(and hopefully, one of the only ones.)_ who had noticed his... _affectionate_ feelings, towards Miss Marianne, and he wasn't afraid to push Brandon towards her. He wanted nothing more than to see him express his feelings towards the girl, and would stop at nothing until he saw her walking down the aisle towards him. The Colonel, being a very private man, even with his close friend, attempted to laugh it off in the beginning, but it honestly did make him uneasy. The last thing he wanted was for Marianne to find out about his feelings and, in return, feel obligated to him in some way and feel stuck with him. He had been a great help to her family and Mr. Ferrars, Elinor's future husband, and he knew that Mrs. Dashwood was already pushing her middle daughter to acknowledge him. But if Marianne ever became something more to him than a friend, he wanted it to be her decision. Out of her own free will and desire.

He leafed through his book, growing more used to Sir John's ramblings on the Dashwood's now so that he was able to nearly ignore him and focus on Donne instead, without so much as an uncomfortable blush on his face. "Marianne would make a wonderful wife." He caught the tail end of Sir John's rant, glancing up at him with a chuckle. "I'm sure." He replied easily, finally finding the page he had been searching for. He had planned on visiting the cottage in the morning, as he usually did a couple days of the week to visit with Marianne and read to her, and had wanted to find his favorite works to read to her. Regardless of where their meetings would lead, he cherished the time spent with her. She was quickly becoming one of his closest friends, next to Sir John himself. She was an unusual type of woman, stuck on the idea of being equals with him, which he enjoyed. She spoke to him like a friend, without restraint. In the recent weeks, he found that she was opening up more and more, coming out of a shell that he hadn't even realized she'd been wearing. While she had always been exuberant and outgoing, she now spoke to him on different matters. She discussed important things with him, family trials, her dreams, wishes for her future, even her deepest thoughts. The only thing she hadn't talked to him about was her heart, and precisely how it felt about him.

"Although she is a bit different than what I imagined for you." He continued, rising from his chair and standing in front of the fire with hands stretched towards it. "Different? How so?" Colonel Brandon placed a bookmark between the pages before closing the book and placing it on the table to his right, elbows now propped on the arms of his chair. He had given up on reading quietly, now that his friend was on the topic of Marianne.

"She's different than other women! Surely, you see that! The girl is...is wild. Like a bird flying from a cage. She doesn't care for propriety, not truly, and only wishes to follow her heart. What other women do you see chasing storms and speeding off in carriages?" All this said, John had a smile on his face. He loved the girl as well, although not in the same way Brandon did, he saw why the man had fallen in love so quickly. It was not often that you came across a woman like Marianne Dashwood. Most men, like Willoughby, saw her and wished to catch her, to put her in a cage to be their own pet. Colonel Brandon only wished to be there and fly alongside her, to be her friend, her companion, her confidante, her..her husband. He cringed at the idea of her being caged, of her personality being quenched by a foolish man who wanted nothing more than a pet. Her wild personality is what made him love her so.

"Different indeed." Brandon murmured. "I only hope she see's that I do not wish to cage her." He admitted, finally looking into Sir John's face.

"Ah! The private Colonel Brandon opens up to his friend at last!" He exclaimed happily, feigning shock. "Keep doing what you're doing, Brandon. I hate to say it, but taking the slow approach seems to be working. She needn't be rushed after that scoundrel Willoughby. She's learning quickly now."

"Learning quickly?"

"Surely, you see the change in her?" When Christopher was silent, Sir John rolled his eyes and put his face in his hands dramatically before meeting the younger man's eyes once more. "Christopher, you must be blind. Her eyes practically follow you everywhere you go. They turn sad when you leave, they light up when you are present. She finds any and every excuse to be near you, and she begs you to read to her every time you visit! She finds any reason she can for you to stay longer! I'm quite surprised she hasn't taken matters into her own hands and proposed to you herself!" Colonel Brandon was taken aback, shocked at first until he truly thought over Sir John's words. He had seen her look at him in such a peculiar way when they went riding with Margaret, and she had seemed to be ever so slightly..clingy to him lately, not that he minded. He had simply assumed that her emotions were tossed all over the place with the thoughts of Elinor leaving home soon, and hadn't ever thought that, perhaps, his feelings were returned.

"You have respected her and taken things as slow as you possibly could've, Brandon, but it's time for you to tell her how you feel. I guarantee you, the feelings are mutual."

"I..are you sure, John?" The Colonel had marched into battle, suffered many trials in life, experienced great pain, but nothing had left him so unsure. Could he risk the precious friendship he had with Marianne and tell her how he loved her? The passion that he felt for her? "What if I tell her how I feel and I ruin our friendship?" He felt as if he was eighteen again, unsure of himself completely. He'd never been overly shy, and he always had enough confidence in himself. Even though he was a much quieter and private man than Willoughby, he was not completely hopeless when it came to relationships and people, but Marianne made him feel clueless.

"That's a risk you must choose to take. I think the better question would be, could you stand seeing her with another man? Being held, loved, cherished, protected by another man?" His heart felt like someone had it in their hands and squeezed the life out of it just at the thought. "You have to tell her."

"I will then. Tomorrow." God help me, he thought, Donne the furthest thing from his mind.


	7. A Stormy Night

**Authors Note: Wow! Long time no see. I can't tell you all how many times I've sat down to write this chapter, a clear picture in my mind of how I wanted this to go, but I could** _ **not**_ **write it down for some reason! Honestly, I'm still not happy with how this came out. I hate it when the story in my mind seems perfect but my hands can't seem to type it out properly! I hope you all enjoy. Continue to review! I appreciate it so much! A new chapter will be up soon!**

Marianne lay in her bed, Elinor perched on the side of it. They both sat still and quiet, eyes glued to the window as rain poured and pattered upon the cottage's roof. Lightning struck somewhere miles away, and Marianne smiled. She should hate storms - they seemed to give her nothing but grief. The last storm this strong that she had seen was the one that nearly killed her, after all. And they reminded her family of a certain dashing young man riding to her rescue, of hurt ankles and Willoughby. But as she heard the thunder outside of her own safe, warm haven inside, she only thought of one man.

 _Colonel Brandon._

She didn't remember much of that night, only of the pain and tears that her illness brought her. But she did remember standing there, utterly helpless and confused and broken. When Colonel Brandon had picked her up so effortlessly, she felt as though he was also putting her pieces back together. As he held her, she drifted in and out of consciousness, but when she finally did fall asleep there in his arms, she felt safe. Adored. Loved. Willoughby made her feel wild and free and careless, but the Colonel made her feel protected. Being so near to him, so near that she could feel his heart beat drumming against her own, she was reminded of how often her sister and mother and even Sir John and practically everyone else told her how taken he was with her, and how blind she had been to not have seen it before this moment. His heart beat was steady and strong, not appearing to be bothered by her weight at all. She had obviously underestimated his strength. And for those long minutes in his arms, her shivers and aches seemed to subside, and her heart felt whole. When he handed her over to Mr. Palmer and she was tucked away in bed, she longed for his presence, and the only thing that dulled that feeling was her fever when it sent her off to another world of sleep.

"Marianne?" Elinor knocked her sister out of her reverie, brow furrowed as she looked at her with concern. "Are you alright? You've been so quiet." And she had been. She glanced up at the clock that hung above her chest of drawers, she had been lost in her thoughts for nearly fifteen minutes, all of that time spent in utter silence. And when Elinor was near, she never stayed silent long. They only had so many weeks left to spend together like this, after all, with her wedding so near. She wanted to take every opportunity to speak with her, to be alone with her and close to her like they were for every day of their lives. Never had she had such a great friend like her sister - she would miss her.

"I'm perfectly fine, just lost in thought, I suppose." She sat up, tucking her knees to her chin and inwardly cursing her long chemise as it tangled with her bare feet.

"Oh? Has the storm made you upset?" Elinor knew her well. Ever since Willoughby had left, even the lightest rain shower made her think of Willoughby. But what Elinor hadn't realized is how quickly her thoughts had turned to another man. A much better one, she mused.

"No, not upset at all." Her voice was dreamy, very much so. She saw Elinor cock her eyebrow, the wrinkles in her forehead forming as she fought a smile. "What aren't you telling me, sister?"

"Nothing at all!" She attempted to sound strong and sure, but the smile growing on her own face and the blush painting her cheeks said otherwise. How could she tell Elinor about these feelings when she couldn't even understand them herself? Colonel Brandon was the exact opposite of what she'd imagined herself with. When she was younger, she had pictured a passionate and incredible love. One that was so strong, she wouldn't be able to sit still. One that was obvious, loud, brave. She imagined her future husband, someone who was like her, outspoken and bold. But Brandon...he was quiet, a wallflower of sorts. He was a man of few words, although now that she'd taken the time to truly listen, she saw that his words were always brilliant. He spent more time with books and with his small hand full of friends than he did anywhere else, although now...that seemed to suit her. His passion was not obvious, but it was true. And if him carrying her by himself in the most terrible storm that she had seen in years, with no concern for himself, no fear for his own health, was not passion- "Marianne, you can't fool me." Once again, her sister cut off her thoughts, scooting herself closer to her and folding a hand into the younger girl's.

"I can't." She admitted, her gaze turning down to their hands. Perhaps Elinor could be the one to help her understand?

"Elinor...I'm experiencing the oddest of feelings I've ever felt in my life." Elinor's eyes met hers, urging her to look up, and when she did, she saw the concern plainly written on her face. The last time she felt strong feelings towards anyone, she had run outside in a storm and nearly killed herself. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be playing in the rain tonight." She added as an afterthought, eager to see a smile instead of such a worried frown on her sister again.

"What kind of feelings, then? And trust me, if you were to try that again...I'd have Colonel Brandon come and help me chain you to this bed!" At the mention of the Colonel, her cheeks reddened once more.

"Marianne? What aren't you telling me?"

"I think..I think I'm falling in love with Colonel Brandon."


	8. A Talk with Mrs Dashwood

**_Authors Note:_** **Ah! The plot bunnies have attacked me, two chapters in two days! Craziness, I tell you! First, thank you all so incredibly much for the sweet reviews on my last chapter. This one is longer than my usual chapters, I just love writing in Colonel Brandon's view. Not a lot of Marianne and Colonel Brandon interaction...but stay tuned for chapter 9, because it'll be** ** _full_** ** _of fluff_** **between the two. Don't forget to review! Hope you all enjoy and stick around for the next chapter!**

 _He had never been more nervous in his life._

He had spent years in the military, seen sickness, death, blood, wounds and many other gruesome things. He had spent his life without much regard to his own safety or health. He'd ridden fast horses, nearly gotten himself killed on many of them. He'd seen his life flash before his eyes several times in the battle field, and he couldn't remember a time that his heart beat so fast. He felt as if it could leap out of his chest at any moment. And the cause of all of these emotions was a young, clueless woman.

 _Marianne._ Just the sound of her name chiming in his mind made the butterflies in his stomach flutter about more.

He threw the saddle on his horse, cinching it up quickly before throwing a leg over easily, his body so used to the motions that he rode off without much thought. His horse was used to riding along this path, and thankfully, he was also used to doing most of the working during certain gallops down the road. Christopher had spent many hours galloping the horse down pathways and trails when he couldn't sleep or seem to do much else. When his mind was weary, he couldn't imagine a better place to be than on the back of a galloping horse. And today was not different than those nights, his thoughts completely focused on Marianne Dashwood.

Memories of last night came rushing to him. Reading Donne by a fire while Sir John, one of his dearest friends, prattled on about unimportant topics and circled around the room. The night had taken a dramatic turn when his friend brought the Dashwood's up during a conversation and, by the end of this talk, had convinced the Colonel to proclaim his love to the middle sister. Tomorrow, he had said, I will tell her tomorrow. He went to bed with peace of mind, eager ( _and a tiny bit hopeful_ ) to see what would occur that next day, praying and crossing every finger that Marianne would welcome, and perhaps even return, his feelings. But by that morning, his peace of mind was nonexistent and he wanted nothing more than to break his promise to Sir John and allow things to remain the same. But, as John had said, he wouldn't be able to stay silent for much longer. He couldn't bear to see Marianne move on from Willoughby and marry another man without knowing that he tried his best to be the man she needed...a man she _wanted_. And he knew she would eventually move on. Despite what she thought when that scoundrel had left her, she would learn to love again. She was too young, too wonderful, too passionate, to never love again.

At last, the stallion turned the final corner and galloped through the shaded pathway that went directly to the cottage. Before he knew it, he was swinging off the horse and tying him absentmindedly to the post, Margaret already on his heels. "Colonel Brandon! Colonel Brandon!" She cried, a grin on her red face. It was a warm, sunny day, the exact opposite of last night. The ground was still wet beneath his boots and when he finally looked towards the young girl, he saw that the ends of her white dress was drenched with water and coated in mud. He couldn't help but smile, his heart lifted if only for a moment at the sight. How alike Marianne she was - he wondered if she liked going for runs in storms as well. "Captain Margaret," He greeted her. "Have you been taking after your older sister? Running in the rain?" He gestured towards her dress, and she smiled even larger before opening her mouth to reply but being cut off by that very sister, Marianne.

"I certainly hope not." Marianne, her curls seeming to glow in the sun, sat by the pianoforte, arms folded over the open window as she rested her chin upon them. As usual, simply looking at her made him feel like an eighteen year old boy as opposed to a mature and, well, much _older_ man. "If she even thinks about walking in rain I may lock her up for the rest of her life, or at least until she can be married off." Her tone was serious and stern, but by the end of her speech, she was smirking, a mischievous glint in her eye.

After another few moments spent in mostly meaningless conversation, he felt less nervous, but knew that he needed to begin the conversation he'd been looking forward to and dreading at the same time. He asked Marianne if her mother was inside, and, after she told him where she was _(in the garden with Elinor, it turned out._ ) he ventured off to meet her, leaving a clueless Margaret and a confused Marianne. She had known the man for over a year, after all, and she saw that his behavior was off. Whatever would he need her mother for? She recalled last night, when she had been curled in bed with Elinor by her side, admitting her growing feelings for the Colonel and how she felt in his presence. How her heart felt lifted, and she felt happy, truly happy, when he was around. Giddy with excitement and something else that she would later realize was the most passionate love she could've ever hoped for. She let out a breath, pushed a curl back from her forehead and her fingers began their dance upon the piano once more, playing the song that, if she remembered correctly, was the one that she had played when she'd first seen Colonel Brandon. Unbeknown of the fact that that very same man had fallen deeply in love with her, love at first sight, during that moment, when he first saw her face, first heard her play.

Meanwhile, Colonel Brandon and Mrs. Dashwood sat in the garden by a small table, tea had been brought by Elinor and placed on it but was being ignored entirely - Brandon not trusting his nervous stomach at all, and Mrs. Dashwood too excited about the potential of this conversation to even try eating or drinking. After a brief moment of small talk and how-do-you-do's, the Colonel took a breath and started the hardest conversation of his life. _(he wondered during this just how hard it would be to broach the topic with Marianne, if Mrs. Dashwood made him feel this way, imagine how terrible it would be attempting to tell the very reason for his nerves!)_

"Mrs. Dashwood," He started, praying that his mind would settle long enough to converse with the woman that he so highly respected. "I know that you've been aware of my...feelings, towards your daughter, Miss Marianne, for quite some time." He had spoken with her in great lengths about this topic when he had gone to collect her after Marianne fell ill with the fever. She smiled at him, urging him to continue, and he felt his nerves begin to dissipate gradually as the minutes went by. "Indeed I have, Colonel." She replied easily, finally sipping her tea.

"My feelings towards your daughter have done nothing but grow stronger as the weeks have gone by, and I would be honored if you would give me your permission and..and your blessing, to ask Miss Marianne if she would-"

"If she would like to be in a-an agreement with you?" Mrs. Brandon stammered, and he quickly searched her eyes for any sign of distress or unhappiness, but all he saw was pure joy...and a bit of shock. A smile appeared on her face and he nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Brandon." And in seconds, tears began streaming down the woman's face, and she hurriedly covered them with her hands as he offered her his handkerchief.

"Colonel, I can not begin to tell you how happy I am, how honored I am, to hear that you wish to pursue my daughter. You have been such...such a light in our lives, especially since Marianne's recent illness. I'm not sure how we would've survived without your help."

Not used to, nor a fan, of such flattery and praise, he wished to change the subject, and quickly. "I have enjoyed every moment of it, I assure you."

He and Mrs. Brandon continued talking for nearly an hour, and finally, they rose from the table, and she quickly urged him onto her daughter. He followed her into the cottage, and she requested that Elinor fetch Marianne from upstairs whilst he paced the floor.

Although the Colonel and her mother was unaware, Marianne had done her own share of nervous pacing. After she had finished playing her pianoforte, realizing she was far too fidgety and anxious to play well, she had begun walking up and down the stairs towards her small chamber, and paced the wooden floors near her window, attempting to catch a glimpse of the Colonel outside with her mother. She had so many thoughts running through her mind, so many desires. She hoped more than anything that they were talking about what she imagined, what Elinor had insisted they must be discussing, but she was still so unsure. But as she spent the remainder of her morning waiting to hear the details of the conversation, she realized how deeply she wanted to be his. While she was unsure about so many things, her feelings for the Colonel were the one thing that she was one hundred percent certain about.

Elinor walked into the room, half hiding behind the door with a glimmer of something _-tears?-_ in her eyes. "Marianne, the Colonel wants to speak to you in private."


	9. An Engagement

**Authors Note: At last! The Colonel and Marianne talk..in** _ **private! ;)**_ **What could that mean? I'm a bit unsure of this chapter simply because it's such a big moment and I wanted to do it justice, I hope you all enjoy it. Apologies for the mistakes in my last chapter, like accidentally referring to Mrs. Dashwood as Mrs. Brandon as a reviewer pointed out. I normally write these very late at night and then I'm too tired to proofread well, apparently! So you all will have to excuse any mistakes! Don't forget to review!**

"Marianne, the Colonel wants to speak to you in private." _In private?_ Her mouth opened in shock as Elinor's words rang in her ears. She felt as if her shoes were glued to the floor. Her heart began to race and she put a hand to her lips, attempting to calm her nerves. _Perhaps_ , she thought, trying to make sense of things, _he simply wants to talk with me as we usually do. Maybe, the lengthy conversation he'd had with her mother was unrelated._ She kept her hopes low, not sure if her heart could take another let down. She had been experiencing the strangest of thoughts about Colonel Brandon - like what it would be like for him to hold her hand, for him to embrace her...for him to _kiss_ her. These thoughts, although entirely unexpected, were not unwanted. His kindness had helped her family in such incredible ways, she wasn't sure if they could've made it through so many things without him. He had given Edward and Elinor a home! A parish! And he was a friend to her, even when she had all but ignored him, her eyes only for Willougbhy. _(She remembered this time with disgust, so ashamed that she had let a man like him fool her.)_

"Marianne?" Elinor snapped her out of her reverie, and she met her sister's eyes for the first time. She was in shock. How had it been just the night before that she'd talked with her about this? Could he truly feel something so strong for her that he would be here to talk to her about...about an agreement?

"Where is he?" She inquired, hands finally falling to her sides as she took another deep breath and a step towards the doorway.

"Downstairs, in the parlor." Her sister met her halfway to the door, reaching a steady arm towards her to squeeze her hand. "Remember how you felt last night. If you truly feel the way you told me, you should be happy." She mistook the younger woman's silence for nerves, and, although she did feel nervous, it was not for the reason Elinor had expected.

"My only concern is that he doesn't..that he's not here fo-for that. What if we're both getting our hopes up? Elinor..he's a highly respected military man, he's nearly twice my age. And after everything that has happened with Willougbhy a-and my illness..why would he want to be my husband?" Marianne, for the most part, had recovered from her fever well. But even still, she didn't quite have the color she used to, and she had never gained all of her weight back. She still had days when she felt too tired to get out of her bed. The Colonel was an eligible bachelor, and had been for years. Despite this fact, and his age, most of the women that she had met watched him carefully, and would accept a proposal from him with pure excitement. He was respected..and she was not.

"Marianne, my dear. You are blind." Elinor said, bluntly. "The man has been in love with you ever since he first saw you. Why do you think he ran off in the storm to find you? Or why he's been showering you with gifts? He's trying to find any way to show you affection, to show you how he feels. I can hardly believe he's been able to wait so long. Of course he's here to pursue your hand!"

Elinor's words calmed her, and she nodded quickly, suddenly so overcome with emotions that she could do nothing else. Was she right?

At last, she had spent all the time she could with Elinor, and she finally crossed over the threshold and prepared to meet with Colonel Brandon. She took each step carefully, eyes on her shoes. She couldn't trust her own body now, she was so jittery. Finally, Colonel Brandon was in her line of sight. He stood beside the pianoforte, his back to her. She slowed her steps and quietly stood near the wall for a moment, allowing herself to gaze at him in secret. Although he was older than herself, she, for what seemed like the millionth time, was taken aback at how handsome he was, and was amazed that she had somehow overlooked him for so long. His back was strong and wide, his legs long. He was much taller than her, and, even though she had never been close enough to truly see the difference, she imagined the top of her head would not even reach his chin. The thought of being so close to him made her stomach flutter, something she had gotten quite used to while in his presence.

After what felt like an eternity but was only a minute or two, he turned, and she shot back behind the wall before he caught a glimpse of her. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment, hoping she wasn't caught admiring him. She did turn the corner, realizing she had kept him waiting far too long. When he saw her, he beamed visibly, and her heart swelled. _Elinor may be right after all._

"Miss Marianne." He greeted her simply, his voice washing over her like a warm breeze. The first thing that she had noticed about him months ago was his voice and how it seemed to send a shiver down her spine every time he talked as of recent. Every word he said sounded like poetry, and the way he said her name made her want him to say it again, and again, and again.

"Colonel Brandon!" She attempted to greet him as she usually did, with her usual level of enthusiasm, to mask her nervousness. She was thankful that they were alone, for if her sisters or mother were here, they would surely sense her uneasiness and she would become the laughing stock of her family. "How nice to see you."

He shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, wishing to speak but suddenly incapable. He's as nervous as I am, she mused.

"Miss Marianne, I am entirely unsure of how to begin such a topic, and I apologize for being so unprepared...I-I did not plan this out as I perhaps should have, but I've realized that I simply could not wait another day to..to-"

"To what, Colonel?" She interrupted him. She was never one to be proper during times like this.

"To tell you how I feel about you." He finally looked at her, finally met her eyes, and her eyes glistened with tears begging to be shed. "I love you, Marianne." The use of her name was improper, but she had never heard anything sound so sweet. And if her tears were close to coming before, they were now a waterfall streaming down her face. She wiped them away quickly, closing her eyes and drawing a breath in, a terrible attempt at gathering herself before he thought she was offended or, God forbid, disgusted.

"Miss Marianne-" He started to talk hurriedly, and she raised a hand. "Colonel Brandon, I-I believe I love you, too." Her blue eyes met his brown ones, and she saw his own tears threatening to leak out of them. She saw the surprise, the shock, the doubt, and she shook her head, realizing her mistake. "I love you. I most definitely love you."

"Really?" Was all he could muster. He saw this woman before him, young, smart, full of talent and passion and dreams, and he couldn't believe his ears. How could such a woman love a man like him? He admired her - the strength that she had, and the thought of her loving him, wanting and needing him, felt like a dream that he never wanted to wake up from. After years of being alone, he felt that he had a chance of having someone at his fingertips.

"Really." And she couldn't take the distance any longer. She took the final steps left between them and looked up towards him. Propriety demanded that they keep their distance before marriage, and really...they didn't even have an agreement between them yet, but she wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her, and propriety could, and would, be pushed aside for this moment.

"But if you don't do something - take my hand, hold me, something, in the next few moments, I may reconsider." She laughed out, sounding more like a choke as she fought back a happy, overwhelmed sob. And hold her he did, not wasting a single moment. As she felt his arms around her, her own not even long enough to wrap around his waist, her face pressed against the warmth of his chest, so close she could feel his heart beating rapidly against her cheek, she realized something. She realized that her heart was entirely his, and his alone. And for the first time, she was thankful for Willoughby and his abandonment, for it made her even more thankful for this man who held her.

But the moment could not last forever, and eventually he did pull away, but not entirely. She was still so close, closer than they had ever been before this day. She could feel his breath, see specks in his eyes and the stubble on his chin, and she loved it all. "I don't want to assume anything, Miss Marianne-" _(She cringed inwardly at the "Miss", wishing that he didn't have to refer to her as that, as it sounded so distant and cold to her now that she'd heard him speak her name without it.)_ "But I would love nothing more than for you to accept a ring from me."

"You..you mean an engagement?"

"I do indeed. A long one, if you wish. I have every intention and desire to court you properly." _Not a long one_ , she prayed.

"I would absolutely love that, Colonel." She tilted her chin up and grinned. "But I demand a short engagement." And with that, he embraced her once more, and she felt him lean ever so slightly to rest his chin on her hair, and she giggled against him. She was right, her chin was far below his.


	10. Sweet Embrace

**AN: Hello again! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. :) don't forget to review! Look forward to a new chapter soon - the next one will have much more dialogue between the two as they begin courting.**

Marianne was in shock. She stood as close to him as possible, his chin resting on the top of her head and a hand folded around hers near her hip. She felt his finger brush against hers, once, twice, before he pulled away and looked her in the eyes, fingers still wound tightly around hers as if he felt that if he were to let go, she would disappear entirely. "Are you sure?" Three little words. She never thought that words could have such an impact on her, but she felt her heart nearly break when he murmured them. His voice, usually very strong and sure - _he was an extremely quiet and humble man, but he was also a very respectable military man, and always confident and sure of himself_ \- came out weak. Normally, such a display of...well, weakness, would make her want to turn away. Willoughby was always confident, and it was part of what originally attracted her to him. She, being a very outspoken woman herself, enjoyed seeing a man so..so like herself. If she had of been able to get a peek into her future a year ago, she would have been sure it was false - to see the Colonel, the man who had been the strongest fixture in her life, next to even Elinor, so nervous and unsure of himself, it was unimaginable. But for some reason, the lack of confidence didn't make her want to turn the other way.

It made her love him more.

"Whatever do you mean?" She inquired, her eyes meeting his own. Despite his nerves, he was able to keep the eye contact. _Man up, Colonel_ , he thought to himself. _She's a nineteen year old girl, and she's making you more nervous than any of the men in the military._ He had been shot at, stabbed - and his body was littered with random scars, some small, some large, to prove it - and had certainly experienced many things in his life that should make him far more nervous than a woman. He felt pathetic, but he wanted to be sure of one thing, that Marianne was agreeing to be with him, to allow him to court her...possibly even marry her, because she cared for him, felt some sort of attraction - _God, could that be true?_ \- and maybe, just maybe, truly loved him, and not just because she felt as though she had to repay him for everything he'd done for her and her family, felt some sort of obligation. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel stuck with him. As much as he wanted to spend his life with her, as much as he loved her, he loved her far too much to lock her into an unhappy life with him just for the sake of his own happiness.

But a smile spread across her face, the shyest smile he had ever seen on Marianne, seeming so unlike her, and his confusion grew. Before he could reply, she opened her mouth to speak up once more. "Colonel Brandon, I just told you that I love you. I accepted your proposal - and even without a ring!" She smiled even larger at him, beaming, and he wanted to sigh in relief at her teasing tone. She was relaxed, happy, that much was obvious, even to him. "I am very, very sure." He felt his knees go weak. _She has me feeling like a teenager!_ And he grinned at her. Actually _grinned_. She had never seen him look so happy or relieved. She had known him for a year, and she had heard him laugh only once. She had hardly seen him smile, and when she did, it was over as quickly as it happened. She saw him grin, so happy and open, and she realized that she wanted to see that happiness on his face every day more than anything.

He racked his brain, searching for something to say. Anything. But all he could think of was, "I love you." So he told her. Again, and again. He took hold of both her arms and pulled her closer to him quickly before finally releasing her completely - although he wished to hold her and to not be forced to let her go, propriety demanded that he release her. She seemed even more unwilling to part, grasping at his coat when he pulled away. "Just a moment longer." She requested, and he felt his heart - and ego, if he were to be honest with himself - swell to the point of it bursting with happiness. But the moment was short lived. Footsteps heading towards the cottage interrupted them, and he pulled away slowly and unwillingly, sad to separate from her completely.

"I love you, too." She said quietly, voice almost in a whisper. Her eyes glimmered with amusement. He could now hear the footsteps coming closer, and Margaret's excited and loud voice chimed through the open windows. She was talking to his horse, from the sound of it.

"Well, did you two have a nice meeting?" Mrs. Dashwood seemed to dance through the doorway, happy to see them standing so closely. She had even caught the tail end of their conversation and could have sworn she heard her daughter whisper an "I love you" towards the Colonel! Her excitement wasn't able to be hidden.

"Wonderful." Marianne said, gliding towards her eldest sister as soon as she walked through the door. She hooked an arm around hers and whispered to her for a moment before Elinor suddenly went to her mother and Margaret and requested their assistance in another room. Marianne and the Colonel were alone once more, although this time, they had a very small window of opportunity. And it was getting dark. He knew he would have to take his leave soon.

"I asked Elinor to escort my mother and sister upstairs for a moment. I know you'll be needing to go soon and..and I wanted to be able to say goodbye properly."

"Properly?" His mouth was still, but his eyes were twinkling. "Would you walk me outside?" She asked, taking his elbow and leading the way without waiting for his response. He imagined a scenario, one that still seemed impossible and too much like a dream than reality - one where she led him outside of the cottage and allowed him to hold her again..his mind continued to think on, imagining what it would be like to put his mouth on hers, to kiss her. They were, in his ( _and her_ ) opinion all but engaged, he just had to give her the ring to make it truly official, so surely, a kiss wouldn't be so very improper or presumptuous of him. But even still, he would wait patiently to be sure of what she desired. He would only ask for things that he knew she was eager to give.

Once they were outside, safe from the eyes of her family, she pulled him to the gate, where his horse was safely tied and happily grazing, and removed her hand from his elbow in order to move it to his neck. Her hand touched the soft strands of hair at the back of it and he felt her nails lightly graze the skin there, he held back a delighted shiver. How long had it been since he'd been embraced? Touched lovingly? Memories of Eliza came swimming back, days of his youth. He remembered feeling such joy when she was near to him, but nothing compared to his feelings as Marianne came closer and closer, her body gravitated towards his. Complete. He felt complete.

When he looked down at her, she couldn't seem to meet his eyes. He was unaware of this, but she felt far too exposed. She didn't want him to see her eyes fill with tears ( _happy ones, of course.)_ and make the poor man uncomfortable. She, instead, put her head on his chest again, the height difference making itself known. Although she was not a very petite woman, she was so much smaller than him. He allowed her to tuck her head into his coat again, his arms wrapping around her as he dropped a hesitant kiss to her hair. How things had changed in the course of a few hours. He hadn't allowed himself to even dream of her accepting his offer of a courtship, let alone picture such a sweet time with her.

"Miss Marianne?" Using _miss_ made him uneasy. With her folded into his arms in such a way, feeling so content and close, it felt incredibly unnatural to be so uptight and polite.

"Yes?" Her voice was muffled by the material of his coat.

"I'm quite unused to this...to courting someone, being with someone. You will have to be patient with me as I learn." He had been with women, of course. Eliza, and various women that he'd come across and, sadly, been with for nights. He regretted those nights, those times of loneliness. But it had been years since Eliza, and that was short lived. He wanted to do things right, for her to enjoy their days together. "It's a good thing I'm not picky then. Simply being with you, that's plenty enough." She assured him. "The way we've been spending time together has been wonderful."

"In that case, perhaps you'd like to join me for a ride tomorrow?" Not the most obvious choice for the typical woman, at least not the ones that he had known, but she had enjoyed riding before and he had already begun to come up with plans, mind churning on ways to make the ride special for her.

"I'd love that." She was eager to have a chance to talk with him - she had been so full of emotions today, too full of them to really carry on a conversation. She found that she longed for tomorrow, to see him again. She missed him already, dreading his goodbye. "I don't want you to leave." She said with a laugh. "How on earth will I last when you are gone for days, weeks at a time?"

"The same way I will, I suppose. I'll write every day when business takes me away. I'll stay in touch as I always have."

They talked for a few more minutes about anything and everything, but the sun had begun it's journey down, and he was soon forced to mount his horse and take his leave. She walked closer to the horse and watched him as he seemed to float up, appreciating his strength in a new way. Not only did she love him, she saw how..how _handsome_ she found him.

Before he rode off, he held his hand out and she took it in hers. He squeezed it before releasing it, already looking forward to tomorrow.

"I'll see you tomorrow then - bright and early."

"I look forward to it." He galloped his horse away, turning it from the gate quickly before dashing off through the trails past the cottage. She found her way back inside and hardly had time to shut the door before she was bombarded with questions from Margaret, Elinor and her mother. But she didn't mind at all.


	11. A Ride

**AN: Ah! We're finally seeing some good interaction between the two. I must admit, I'm writing this very late at night and I am simply exhausted, so my proof reading may be terrible! I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Next chapter we will continue the ride, and hear about that ring of his. ;) Don't forget to review! I read and love them all!**

When Marianne woke up, eyes still hazy and willing for her to close them again, she was greeted by the bright sun shining through her open curtains - _she had fallen asleep whilst reading last night on accident, it appeared, book still opened and pressed against her chest_ \- and she suddenly jolted upwards, book falling to the floor as she frantically searched for the clock, letting out a frustrated groan. "No!" She exclaimed, feet meeting the cold floor. Her mother suddenly came through the door, worried over her noise, of course. "Marianne? What on earth?" Marianne paid her no mind and simply ran to where she kept her clothing - she had originally planned on wearing the first thing she found, as she was running so late, but as soon as she reached forward towards a dress, she found that it was not nice enough. She couldn't meet the Colonel in such a state! "Marianne, answer me. What are you doing?" She continued her search for a dress and answered her mother frantically. "It is nine in the morning, mother! I am supposed to meet the Colonel at ten to go riding, remember?" She muttered something under her breath, panicking over her lack of time.

She finally found a decent dress and requested for her mother to help her. All of the laces and buttons in almost all of her dresses were to complicated for her to do on her own. She dreamt of a shopping spree, she was in desperate need for more dresses. The only one that she could manage herself was the rattiest of them all. She hadn't had a new one since they still lived at Norland! Perhaps she would be able to feel more comfortable to be casual around the Colonel later in their courtship, but she couldn't imagine meeting him now without looking her best. He had, of course, seen her at her worst, sick with fever and drenched with rain and tears. He had accepted her despite her flaws - both emotional and physical - and she loved him more for it, but she imagined that he would like to see her in a nicer state. ( _Little did she know, he loved her any way he could have her, whether she was dressed nicely with her hair done and pretty rosy cheeks, or if she was in her rattiest dress, muddy and tired after a day of running and enjoying the air with Margaret.)_

"Oh, dear. Well, we must hurry then!" Her mother tied her laces and soon, she was in her dress, slipping her boots on and lacing them up as well. Her mother busied herself in her room, and lifted the book that had fallen from her bed, handing it to Marianne as she finished with her boots and sat on the side of her bed, covers still rumpled from a night's sleep. "I haven't seen you reading this one." She noted.

"It's newer." Marianne replied, taking hold of the book. It was a book written by Edmund Spenser, an author that she'd only recently become acquainted with. The Colonel had read from this certain book several times during her time with him, when she was still too ill to read herself. He had bought her a new copy and given it to her the last time he had gone to London. "I must leave during a cliff hanger," He had said. "So while I am gone, read the rest of it and I'll be reading, too. We can finish it together when I come back." They had finished it together, indeed, but she still loved coming back to it and reading it, especially the parts that he had read to her. She could imagine him reading it so vividly, his voice in her ears. She had never been so enchanted by a voice before. While Willoughby read with passion..the Colonel was a whole other level of passion. She felt as though Shakespeare himself would be honored to have him read his sonnets out loud. "The Colonel gave it to me last time he went to London. We had been reading it together."

Her mind went back to sitting outside on a warm day, legs tucked into a blanket as she reclined in her seat and he sat to her side, facing her on his stool and read.

 ** _"For whatsoever from one place doth fall,_**  
 ** _Is with the tide unto an other brought:_**  
 ** _For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought."_**

"That's kind of him." Mrs. Dashwood remarked, finally appearing to be happy with the state of the room. Despite having plenty of help to clean the cottage, and being used to having the maids at Norland, she loved to clean as much of she could by herself and feel accomplished in her home. She sat next to her middle daughter, laying a hand on Marianne's that had been sitting to the side of her leg. "Are you happy, Marianne?" Marianne was surprised, her mother had been the one who had pushed her towards the Colonel the most. As soon as she became uneasy about Willoughby, she had tried to get her interested in Brandon. Although she knew that her mother wanted her to be happy, she had never heard her question it. She was always sure that she would be content with Colonel Brandon and thus never seemed to be bothered with asking.

"Of course I am." Marianne clasped her hand tightly, looking her in the eyes. She was so like her mother, more like her than she was with Elinor or Margaret, and they had always been so, so close. She treasured her mother and her opinions, and only wished that she had listened to her sooner and noticed the Colonel before she had her heart broken. "Mama, don't ever question that. Colonel Brandon..we've only been in an agreement for less than a day and I can hardly stand to be away from him. I am happy, happier than I've ever been."

"I know you and Willoughby..you two were so much alike, I thought you were a perfect match before we knew him more. Colonel Brandon, he may be different, he may be quieter, older, more mature and less..outspoken than you would have liked, but oh, Marianne. He loves you."

"And I love him. I appreciate his differences. I wouldn't want him to be like Willoughby." She assured her. Her mother, although she did know the Colonel quite well, didn't see how passionate or wonderful he could truly be. She hadn't heard him declare his love just last evening, or seen him embrace her. She hadn't heard him read to her. Marianne looked forward to getting to know him more and discovering his different passions and to seeing more of his life.

"Well," She realized that her mother's blue eyes, so similar to her own, were beginning to fill with tears. And she understood. Elinor was so very close to marrying and moving away, and now Marianne was going in that direction as well. She would have only Margaret left, and it truly would not be long until Margaret herself reached the age where she would become interested in men and begin to desire a life of her own. To begin wanting a husband. "We best fix your hair now, and get you ready. He will arrive soon."

Once Marianne's hair was in place, assisted by her mother and Elinor, who had come in to help sometime soon after Mrs. Dashwood and Marianne had finished their heart to heart, she was quickly on her way out her door, eager to make her way outside to wait for Colonel Brandon. Elinor had brought her something to eat while she was getting ready, knowing she would not have time to sit down at the table to breakfast, and now all she had to do was wait for her..her suitor. How odd _(and wonderful!)_ that seemed! But as soon as one boot had crossed over the threshold, Margaret was yelling and climbing the steps. "Colonel Brandon is here! Colonel Brandon is here!" She chimed, and sure enough, she could soon hear the loud beats of the horse's hooves from her opened window, breeze making her curtains fly and toss around. Her heart seemed to beat as fast as that horse's hooves, so very happy and eager to see him again. She practically flew down the stairs, passed Margaret and to the front door. Margaret, of course, was not far behind, just as eager to see him. Colonel Brandon had taken out so much time to be a positive figure in the young girl's life, and it warmed Marianne's heart to see him so thoughtful and loving towards both of her sister's. She knew she had also taken in Eliza and also Eliza's baby _(A girl, she had found out, named Juliet, after Romeo and Juliet. When Marianne had found this out, she became even more eager to meet this Eliza.)_ and her respect increased for him tenfold. His heart was so large.

Margaret reached him before Marianne, as she had contained herself before she reached the door and slowed her steps. Colonel Brandon had already dismounted his horse and tied him to the post and was walking towards Marianne, hand flying to his head in a salute. "Captain Margaret." He greeted her, eyes and tone serious, but he couldn't contain his growing smile. "Colonel Brandon!" Margaret saluted back, heading to his horse and stroking his face, now completely oblivious to the couple.

"Colonel." Marianne smiled at him demurely, suddenly feeling quite shy, an emotion that she was not used to. What did she do now? She'd been in the brief, unofficial courtship with Willoughby but had never felt this way towards him. Although she was unsure, butterflies flying in her stomach, she was so happy to be back in his presence. "Miss Marianne." He replied easily, coming closer and offering her his arm. She took it eagerly, allowing him to lead her towards the small stables to the side of her cottage. He had loaned her family two mares, in case they ever had a need to ride. He wanted to make sure they had a way to go for help if Marianne's illness ever got worse when she was still sickly, and since Elinor could ride quite well, and Margaret was quickly learning, he had felt it was necessary for them. He, with the help of his own stablehand, had even fixed up the stables back to a working order for them! Marianne hadn't ridden much at Norland, but she had enjoyed it when she found the time and was happy to be well enough to ride again, especially in such pleasant company. And it was nice, having two horses, in this situation. Their chaperone for the day, Margaret, was happy to come along. She could ride one of the mares, leaving Marianne with other and Colonel Brandon with his black horse. She expected him to lead her straight to the stable and to the horses, but he stopped dead in his tracks as soon as they were out of her little sister's sight, and took both of her arms gently, making her gaze upwards at his face to see what he was thinking. "I've missed you." He said simply, and she smiled so large that she feared her face would be stuck that way. She shook his hands off her arms, and he looked down at her, perplexed and seemingly a bit hurt, until she wrapped her arms around his waist, like she had the day before, and pressed her cheek against his heart. He sighed, possibly in relief, she guessed, and put his arms around her before reaching a hand up to her hair. She felt his hand stroke it for a moment before they both heard Margaret's loud footsteps coming closer, and they broke apart. "I've missed you as well." She admitted.

"You just saw each other yesterday!" Margaret exclaimed, rolling her eyes in true teenager fashion.

"But it seems like it's been much longer." Marianne raised a brow at her sister, attempting to hold back a laugh. It had been only yesterday, after all, but now that she knew her feelings for this man so well and knew that he felt so strongly for her, spending time apart seemed pointless to her. She would've laughed at herself, too, a few months ago. Not over being eager to see her fiance, of course, she was always a hopeless romantic, but over the fact that she was so eager to see the Colonel, the man that she had ignored and been so rude to. How foolish she had been.

"Indeed it does." He agreed, finally walking to the stable to prepare the horses for a ride. He found his way into the small barn easily, leaving the sister's alone for a moment while he collected the tack. He was still amazed at how quickly things had changed for him. Seeing how happy Marianne was to be around him, how readily she went into his arms...He got a glimpse of what he hoped their married life would be like. He prayed that they got there. Although she was very eager to accept his proposal, even without a ring, as she reminded him _(although she would not be without a ring for much longer..._ ) he still felt that this was a dream, and prayed that no one would awaken him from it.

He saddled up both horses in their stalls and led them out to the women by their bridles. They had come from Delaford, two of his most sane and well broke horses, half sisters. They had been born at Delaford, and, with him normally preferring his stallion _(perhaps he was reckless, but he enjoyed the fire in a stallion._ ) and having the rare visitor, they hadn't been working much. He was happy for them to have a job with the Dashwood's and knew that Elinor and Mr. Ferrars had taken them both out several times, and Margaret also rode them both often. He had taught her most of everything she knew about riding and he had to say, she was quite the natural rider, as was Marianne, although she was a bit more cautious and preferred slowly walking rather than trotting up and down the roads like her sister.

Margaret quickly took the reins of her favorite horse, and found something to climb on so she could mount easier. Marianne had found a place by his side, tucking her arm back into his free arm on the opposite side of the other mare, and he fought back the emotions that wanted to come creeping out. _You're a grown man, and you are getting emotional over a simple show of affection. Get a hold of yourself_ , he thought, but how long had it been since he'd felt this way? Or had someone love him romantically?

Margaret's sudden laugh distracted him from the woman beside him, and when he and Marianne looked up to her, they saw her scrambling to the top of the saddle to find her seat, horse already moving and ready to begin the ride. Marianne cackled, and he laughed as well, at hearing the two women enjoying themselves so openly, a rare thing for women now. Most were so focused on propriety and appearing well educated and proper, rarely allowing themselves to be casual or to be, well, themselves, and he loved spending time with the Dashwood's, whom were so very different than what he'd always been around. He knew their time at the cottage had greatly impacted and changed them, leaving Norland had been an incredible hardship, but he knew that they had become better and happier people because of it.

Once Margaret was settled and had walked off, riding throughout the area near them, he turned to Marianne. "Well, I believe it's your turn. I'll help you up, unless you'd like to use Margaret's idea of climbing up from a stump." He joked.

"No, no, I think I'd rather have you help me than scramble on top of a horse and have it run off." She released his arm and winked at him, taking the reins from him to throw them over the horse's head and adjust them properly before he helped her up. Finally, he lifted her with ease and she was mounted, trying to excuse her head spinning for nerves of being on the horse, although she knew it was because of him. His strength had surprised her, although she wasn't sure why. He was a military man and quite the sportsman, she supposed she mistook his age for weakness. _(And really, he wasn't that old.)_

"I thought we might ride towards the large field that's about a mile away, we can take the road, it's an easy path and the horse's should behave well on it." The field was one of the most beautiful places within riding distance from the cottage, and he had planned on making a special stop once they'd arrived, if Marianne and Margaret were agreeable, and he hoped they would be. He had something very important to give Marianne, the weight of the ring weighing heavily in his pocket as he thought about it, and although he would have preferred to have given it to her at Delaford, in a more romantic and private setting, he didn't want to make her wait for long.

"That sounds wonderful." Marianne agreed, much to his relief, and Margaret rode on ahead, trotting past them, and he took that for an agreement on her part as well. He was happy to have her ahead of them, to have her focused on her horse so that he and Marianne could talk more privately. They hadn't gotten a chance to have a conversation in days, with him having to focus on business that week, he hadn't been able to make his near daily visits to the cottage, and he had missed her.

He had opened his mouth to speak up, but she had beat him to it. "Colonel Brandon," She started, and he nodded, riding closer to her side. "I was thinking about Eliza this morning, and I was wondering...well, I was wondering if perhaps I could, if you didn't mind, that is, if I could meet her." She surprised him. He hadn't expected her to want to meet her, he had hoped that one day their paths would cross, they were alike in many ways, and he wanted Eliza to meet the woman who had stolen his heart in such a way. Likewise, he would love Marianne to meet Eliza, the young girl (really, not much older than Margaret, just slightly younger than Marianne.) who had also been a very important part of his life. But with Marianne knowing her link to Willoughby, and knowing that Juliet was his child, he knew it would have to be a sore subject.

"You want to meet her?"

"And Juliet, of course. I hear you talk about the baby so much, I..I'd love to meet them for myself." Her horse suddenly pinned it's ears at the Colonel's, and he laughed, nudging his horse off the road and to the grassy edge. "She's not a fan of men, it seems. She never liked the stallions or geldings." He commented before turning serious once more. "I'd love for you to meet them both. I didn't, well, I didn't expect that you'd want to, knowing what had happened with Eliza and Mr. Willoughby." He seemed to take on a new tone when he said Willoughby's name, something she wasn't used to. He was normally such a gentle and loving man, and to hear his plain anger was surprising, although she understood his anger completely.

"Eliza seems so wonderful from what you've told me, and Juliet is innocent in this, as well. I wouldn't hold anything against them. After all, I had fallen for Willoughby, as well." Feeling anything _(other than slight pity, perhaps._ ) for Eliza other than acceptance seemed rather hypocritical.

"Eliza would love having company, especially from you. I'm afraid she's cooped herself up too much, only really accepting visits from me. But she's a young woman, she needs to be social, to talk to people other than an old military man and a baby."

"You're good company." She had ridden ahead of him slightly, so she had to look behind her for a second, meeting his eyes before turning back around. "I don't blame her. You've been such a wonderful part of her life, and society is so judgemental. She deserves to be loved and accepted, not blamed."

"I agree wholeheartedly. She's done so much, worked incredibly hard, in order to give Juliet a good future. She's hardly willing to take any help from me, it was difficult, getting her to accept a place to live in Delaford, I'm thankful she finally agreed."

"Is she very far from your house?" Marianne had been to Delaford, of course, many times, but had only visited the large house where the Colonel lived, and hadn't seen much of the property.

"No, not at all. Within walking distance. I wanted to keep her close, with her being so ill after having Juliet. We were so worried for her those first couple of months. For both of them."

"Perhaps I can visit her soon, then."

"I'd love to have you at Delaford."

They rode in silence for a few beats, before Marianne spoke up again.

"You said that you were worried about Eliza, was she that ill?"

"Indeed she was, she was the sickest I have ever seen anyone before. Even worse off than you were."

"And so you feared for her life?" He was to her side again, this time keeping more of a distance between the animals. She looked at him again, and saw him nod. "Yes."

"What would have happened to the baby, then?" She couldn't imagine him sending her to an orphanage, and Eliza had no family or friends that she knew of.

"I would have taken her, of course. Eliza had no friends left after Willoughby, they had deserted her the moment they found out she had become pregnant outside of wedlock. And she has no family..well, other than myself, if you count me."

"You would have raised her? Even with your strong dislike of Willoughby?" Dislike didn't seem to cover it, she thought.

"Of course. As you said before..she is not to be blamed for her father's mistakes, nor for Eliza's." She would have sworn it wasn't possible, but her love for him grew even more at that moment. He was far too good for her, she realized. Far to selfless and loyal and loving and amazing. And so she told him so. "You are far too good of a man for me." And he laughed, harder than she'd seen him laugh before. "I mean it. After what Willoughby has done..you're so incredibly selfless, I am amazed."

"Selfless." He seemed to scoff. "Nonetheless, I hope you keep this view of me, it will make for an easy courtship." This time, he was the one to wink at her, making her giggle.

At last, they arrived at the field, and he stopped his horse, and dismounted, looking up at the sister's as they glanced down from their horses in confusion. His heart began to pump faster.

The ring _._

 _Oh, he hoped she would like it._


	12. A Ring

**AN: Woo, I'm on a roll! Updates nearly every day! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please excuse any mistakes, as always. I tend to write late at night and then I'm too tired to proof-read! ;)**

Marianne and Margaret looked at him, both wearing matching confused expressions on their faces, which were illuminated by the sunlight peering behind the hill at the back of the field. He hadn't had many options for this day, not much surrounded the cottage and this was the nicest area within riding distance for Marianne and Margaret, both women not quite used to riding long distances. But it was a beautiful sight, even better than he had hoped for, with the morning sun rising above the field and casting its light on the dew sitting on the long grass and wildflowers, making it look to them as if glitter had been sprinkled upon the earth. The Colonel looked up at Margaret whilst he walked his horse towards Marianne, taking hold of Marianne's right rein. "Margaret, if you'd like, you can go riding through the field. Daisy _(the name of the mare she had been riding)_ would enjoy it. I'd like to talk to your sister for a moment before we continue on." Marianne then peered at him from underneath her hat, curious.

"Alright, Colonel Brandon!" Margaret agreed readily, as he had guessed she would. She had confided in him just days ago that she was growing weary of riding on the same roads every day and would like a change of scenery. He was simply happy to have a private moment with Marianne in order to give her the ring. It was something that he would've preferred to have done alone.

"What are you up to, Colonel Brandon?" She questioned, smiling at him now. She had grown concerned when he had sent Margaret off in order to talk with her in private - she wondered, albeit briefly, if he had thought about his decision the other night and was becoming unsure. She remembered him greeting her so happily earlier that morning and it eased her some, but she couldn't help but feel such...unease, knowing that he was so, so good, and she had made so many mistakes. Of course, she was not blind and knew he had many faults as well. Being human, he was fallible, and she took great comfort in knowing that he had stood by her for the last year, even throughout everything she'd gone through and done. But now that her sister was off riding and out of hearing range, focused completely on her horse and ride, she saw him lighten up visibly and she felt herself do so as well.

"I brought you-" He paused for a moment, reaching into his inside pocket in his riding coat, now smiling up at her. "A gift." And with that, he pulled out a tiny box, and her heart skipped a beat. It was the exact size of a ring box, she realized quickly. Although he had promised her a ring, and she knew he would eventually give her one, she was still surprised and over joyed. She tried not to get ahead of herself, trying to imagine the other possible scenarios. Perhaps it wasn't a ring - she didn't want to get her hopes too high. But oh, how she wanted it to be a ring! She couldn't imagine having his ring on her hand, knowing, with full assurance, that he wanted her to be his wife. It felt like a dream.

"Is that so?" She still sat in the saddle, straightening her back slightly, thankful for her quiet mare. She continued standing still with no desire to move, enjoying the sun, Marianne assumed. She spent too much time in a stall. He had let his own horse graze, trusting it not to roam far. She had wondered why he had been the only one to dismount, and now, she had to wonder...was he planning on kneeling?

"Indeed it is. And I admit, I'm quite nervous about this gift." _So am I._

"You shouldn't be. You have proven to be excellent at giving - the pianoforte, books, the horses..you've been too kind to us. We- _I_ don't need anything else."

"Ah, but I am certain you need this gift." He stepped closer, her leg nearly brushing against his chest. "May I help you dismount for a moment?" He asked, his free hand, the one not holding the mysterious box, traveled to her arm, and she reached down for him and slid off the horse gracefully, knocking her boot out of the stirrup.

Once she was on the ground, legs feeling something like jelly from riding for so long, her horse now grazing along with Colonel Brandon's, he moved his hand from her arm to the box, and prepared to open it. "In fact, I believe you would be quite mad at me if I did not give you this one." And he opened the box, revealing the beautiful antique rose gold ring. It held several beautiful diamonds, bunched together in the shape of an oval. She had never seen a more beautiful ring in her life. "Oh, Colonel Brandon." She murmured, breath taken away. "It's beautiful."

"It's been in my family for years now, my mother was the last to wear it. I'm thankful that my brother didn't take it - he wanted something newer and flashier for his wife, he said no spouse of his would have something old," He said this with a scoff, and she knew it must still be a touchy subject. She made a mental note to ask him more about it later. "But I thought you'd like the history behind it more than you would like a bigger diamond. If you would prefer something else-"

"Nothing else would even compare to this, Colonel." She cut him off, fighting back the tears that were threatening to leak out. "It's beautiful. _Perfect._ " She nodded once, then raised her head to look at him, suddenly aware of how very close they were. If she stood up on her toes, and he bent down slightly, their lips would meet so very easily. And when he met her eyes completely, seeming to search them for any doubts or hesitance, she wanted nothing more than for that to happen.

He took her left hand in his much larger one, and slid the ring on her finger, raising it towards his mouth and laying a gentle kiss on the diamonds. She felt her cheeks warm with delight, realizing that this was the first time he had ever kissed her. It was not uncommon for men to kiss a woman's hand in greeting, of course, but Colonel Brandon had never been an overly affectionate man. When they had first met, he simply nodded her way, not rude, but quite aloof. He had started conversations, and when their friendship had grown, he had still kept to his quieter ways, never one to draw attention to himself. But, it seemed to make everything more precious to her. Knowing that she meant this much to him, knowing that she was the only one who saw such a gentle and affectionate side of him, save for Eliza and her baby.

"I love you." He said simply, loss for words. He wracked his mind, searching for something better to say, something more, but he could not find words that seemed to fit. He had prepared a speech of sorts, prepared to tell her how much he cared for her, how long he had loved her, but when she was near him, all logical thoughts seemed to disappear. She was all he could think about. "I have for a long time, although I'm sure you had known that. I wasn't quite...quite good at hiding it, apparently." Elinor and Mrs. Dashwood had found out rather quickly, as had Sir John and the Middleton's.

"I wasn't aware, actually. Not until, well, not until the other day when you told me."

"Really? Your sisters - both of them - and your mother, as well as all of our mutual friends, they had figured it out from day one, it seemed. They've all been rather impatient with me, I think Sir John had told me every day that I needed to hurry up and talk to you."

"And why didn't you before?" She asked.

"Would it have changed anything? If I remember correctly, you seemed to think that I was rather old and boring when we first met." He chuckled, remembering her comments about his rheumatism _(Which he did not have. His shoulder pain was from an old injury from the military, not from old age, although he had to admit, he did have more aches and pains than he'd like to.)_ and her laughing at Willoughby when he would make sly comments about his age. It hadn't bothered him - he was older, yes, but he would rather be old and grey and weak than to be a scoundrel like John Willoghby! "I think that if I had've told you before, you would have wanted to run away screaming and I would have ruined our growing friendship. I have patience, I was not unhappy waiting for you."

"I suppose you're right." She admitted, suddenly feeling guilty and quite aware of how badly she had treated him. All for Willoughby. She had slandered the one true friend she had outside of her family. "I'm sorry, you know. For how I treated you. I was young and foolish."

"It's of no consequence. I have thick skin, none of it bothered me." That was a half lie, he knew. Although he did have thick skin, he couldn't say that seeing the woman he loved so much seem so...annoyed by his presence hadn't hurt him. But now, it was over. And he knew that she hadn't meant anything by it. She was following the young man's lead, driven by false love. He understood.

"It didn't bother you? Not at all? Colonel...you may have thick skin, but if you love me the way you claim to, surely my words had to of hurt." She had seen past his facade, apparently.

"Some..some of it did, I admit." And her heart broke into a thousand pieces. If she had felt guilty before, seeing his face and hearing his tone now made her previous guilt seem like nothing. She wished that she could some how go into the past and remove everything she had said about him. To him.

"I'm sorry." Was all she could seem to muster up, but it wasn't enough. "I love you, truly. Despite everything I had said before. I love you now, and I was blind and foolish a year ago."

"You're forgiven. I was never angry or upset with you, only with Willoughby for how he treated you and swayed you in such a way. My main concern has always been for your happiness."

He turned around then, searching for Margaret. He saw her not far from them, practicing her trot in a flatter part of the field. He cringed looking at her, not able to imagine trotting side-saddle. How in the world did that child manage that? Marianne laughed at her, her eyes now on her sister. "I most certainly would not want to be doing that side-saddle." She echoed his thoughts.

"Nor would I. She must have quite a high pain tolerance." He said dryly. He turned his attentions back to Marianne, hands finding her waist. He wanted to do something. He wanted to kiss her so incredibly bad, to hold her close, but Lord, all he could think about was what everyone would think. It wouldn't be proper, that much he knew, but really..they were alone, for all intents and purposes. And as she gazed up at him, Margaret forgotten for the moment, he felt his resolve crumbling quickly, and soon said to heck with it.

"Miss Marianne?" He drawled, voice low and rich. She was aware - _extremely aware_ \- of how close he was, and although she was new to this, new to being so in love, new to being engaged, and had never been kissed by anyone, she knew what he was asking for. He wouldn't come any closer, she knew, without some sort of sign that she was alright with it, so a sign she gave. She lifted her hand to the back of his neck, fingers grasping his soft hair gently and she pulled him closer, meeting him halfway until she finally felt his lips on hers. It was chaste, both of them slightly shy and unsure at first, but eventually, they grew comfortable, and he kissed her senseless. She couldn't think of a thing, not when he was kissing her. All of the poetry in the world couldn't compare to how she felt with his mouth on hers. When they broke away, they both beamed, smiling wildly at each other. "I love you." She said, and she was kissing him again, and again. "I love you." She must've said it three, four times, holding him close to her as he anchored her.

"You've made me speechless." He muttered. "And that is quite difficult to do. I can't seem to think of a single intelligent thing to say to you."

"I feel the same way." He leaned forward to kiss her again, but the second he drew closer, his hand finding a place in her hair, Margaret was yelling excitedly, riding towards them at a trot. They broke apart, and Marianne prayed that she was not blushing too obviously.

"Colonel Brandon! Did you see?!" She burst out, dimples showing as she smiled, teeth baring. "I'm afraid I didn't! What happened?" He jogged to her quickly, patting her horse on the neck as he passed. "I cantered her! Just like you do on your horse!" He cringed at the thought of cantering side saddle.

"And you didn't fall to your death? You have a much better seat than I." He announced, biting his cheek to hide a smile when she noticeably beamed at his praise.

"I stayed on! Oh, it was amazing! Now I know why you gallop everywhere!"

"He gallops everywhere because he is reckless." Marianne joined the conversation, peeking at him from the corner of her eyes. "Don't be like him. I don't want you falling and getting hurt! We've had the doctor out far too many times recently." But, she was not Elinor, and couldn't be the serious, mature sister for long. "But tell me..how fast did you go?" And Margaret began rambling on all about her canter through the field. Marianne felt Colonel Brandon's fingers stroke hers once, then grasp her hand completely, subtly guiding her closer. She tucked into his side while Margaret told her tale, glancing happily at her ring finger every few seconds and at her fiance's face as he listened to her little sister intently.

Before long, it was time for them to begin the journey home. The couple rode behind Margaret the whole way as she sped off ahead. "Colonel?" After a few minutes of a happy silence, she spoke up. He hummed in acknowledge her, and she continued. "Do you regret not marrying Eliza? Do you ever wish that you had of been able to marry her?" Her question shocked him, making him stop his horse and give her his full attention. Both sister's stopped, but Marianne signaled Margaret forward, to continue going on.

He thought for a moment, wondering how to respond to her appropriately. "Eliza...I loved her. I loved her a great deal, I won't lie to you. At the time, I would have done anything to have been able to marry her. Life for her daughter would certainly be different if..if I was her actual father, and she was not simply a ward. Eliza went through more than she should have had to. Seeing her..on her death bed, suffering so much with no one to help her. No one who really loved her, it pained me so greatly. But Marianne, if I chose her..if I married her, I doubt I would be with you now, and I wouldn't change this - _us_ \- for the world."

"I'm so happy that you've taken Eliza in. I know it must have been so difficult for you - I'm sure it still is, being responsible for her and her raising but not truly being her father."

"I love her like she is my own." He admitted, nudging his horse to walk once more. "It has been hard, I'm restricted in many things because she is not truly mine. I wish I..I wish I could do more. For her and Juliet."

"You've given her everything you possibly can. You mustn't feel guilty over what you can't give her. It's out of your control."

"I'd like for you to meet her soon, if you're still willing."

"Of course I am!"

"Tomorrow- why don't you and your mother and sisters come to Delaford? I can arrange for a carriage to come to take you all. We can meet for a late lunch, and after, I can take you to visit Eliza and the baby. Edward, if he'd like, would be more than welcome to come as well. I'm sure he and Elinor are eager to spend any time together that they can, and he'll be close to the house any how." Her face brightened at the idea. She loved Delaford, and the thought of spending three days with him in a row was extremely pleasant. "That sounds perfect."

Soon _(too soon, she thought, although her legs ached from riding so long, she didn't want to see him go.)_ they were back at the cottage. Margaret got off of her mare with ease and took her back to the stables herself, but Marianne waited for the Colonel to assist her. She did know how to dismount safely without help, and could untack her horse without difficulty as well _(they had plenty of horses at Norland and she rode often.)_ but she planned on soaking his attention up all she could. He tied his horse and came to help her, taking the horse from her and leading it to the stables with her walking by her side once she was safely off.

Once the horses were tucked away in their stalls, Margaret ran off to the cottage, and she and the Colonel said their goodbyes.

"Today was so wonderful, thank you. For everything." She said quietly, eager to be back in his arms, which he quickly noticed and remedied. Once she was wrapped closely to him, she felt him lean down and press a kiss to her forehead, narrowly avoiding her riding hat. "Thank you, for accepting the ring and..and me."

"I can hardly wait until tomorrow. I have to admit, I miss you already."

"You did say you wanted a short engagement?" He questioned, she could hear the grin in his tone. "Indeed. _Very, very_ short."

And she began wondering if they could possibly prepare a wedding in a couple of weeks...how ever would she wait?.


	13. Loving You & Donne

**AN:/ I AM BACK. I was on vacation for awhile, and I'm still exhausted from it! Warning, this is COMPLETELY unedited and I haven't searched it for mistakes. I'm tired from not getting any sleep last night and it's almost midnight, so many apologies for mistakes as I'm sure they are there, but wanted to get an update in asap! Read and review!**

The next few days were spent in total bliss. Marianne saw Colonel Brandon nearly every day - unless he was far too busy with business and keeping Delaford in order, he stopped by every morning, usually with a small bunch of flowers or new sheet music or a book that he had found the night before and thought she would enjoy. On the small nighstand beside her bed lay a book, one of the first he had ever loaned her during her fever _(she had realized not long ago that she'd forgotten to return it, but when she mentioned it, he urged her to keep it as she had liked it so much)_ with several flowers from the tiny bouquets he had put together. She always plucked her favorite flower out and pressed them in the book for safe keeping - it was a silly, possibly childish, gesture, and Elinor had teased her for being too girly and romantic for her own good, stashing away dying flowers and keeping his books, but she was unashamed. The books always came to her smelling somewhat like him, probably from being stored in his saddle bag when he rode to the cottage. She realized every time she opened a new book and breathed in the distinct scent that she could no longer read without smelling it and becoming distracted with thoughts of his voice reading to her. He was in her every thought. It caught her by surprise quite often. She had been foolishly in love with Willoughby, but still..it was nothing like the love she felt for Brandon. The way he made her feel, think, act, was far beyond what any poem could have made her expect.

She could hear her mother humming lightly downstairs as she ventured her way to her bedroom - her mother was mending a dress for Margaret and enjoying the occasional sip of tea with Elinor beside her. She would be married in less than three weeks, and she felt completely unprepared to lose her sister, although Colonel Brandon's proposal had dulled that pain. She would be within short miles from her sister at Delaford, since Colonel Brandon had so kindly offered Edward a place to reside. She did not have to worry about losing her to distance, after all. And she would be married not long after. Her and Brandon had not yet set a date, as he had been carried out of town just two days before, but he had assured her that he would come to her as soon as he was settled at home once more and they would discuss the wedding. He hadn't given her a day, not sure how quickly business would be wrapped up, so she eagerly awaited his arrival each day.

She made it to her room finally, steps slowed as she was lost in thought. She knelt down and blindly searched for her books that she had shoved under her bed, left with no other spot for them. She found the one she had been searching for _(John Donne, a favorite of Colonel Brandon's.)_ and quickly went towards the garden area in front of the cottage to find her seat and read. She had hardly begun reading, had only just found her bookmark and was tucking it in her free hand when she heard the sound of galloping hooves on the road. Startled, she stood quickly and went towards the gate, eyes widening with glee when she realized who was galloping towards her.

"Colonel!" She was suddenly very thankful that Margaret had gone to spend the day with Mrs. Jennings - as much as she loved her little sister, she was so obsessed with Colonel Brandon _(which pleased her greatly, knowing that her family loved her choice in husband so dearly.)_ that Marianne hardly spent a second alone with him. As for her Mother and Elinor, they would leave them be, she knew. They had been apart for two days, and while that was a short period of time, it felt like eternity to them. She called for him, not able to contain her grin. He sat back in the saddle, gripping the reins tighter to slow the horse into a canter, then a trot, before dismounting in a hurry and finally stopping his stallion from continuing on. He tied him to the gate before unlatching it and coming through, beaming at his future bride. "Marianne," Once again, their personalities showed their differences. While she was uncontrollable at times, exuberant and excitable, unable to contain her happiness and willing to eagerly call out his name, he was her calm fixture. But the way he said her name, although calm and serene as always, was filled with such love and fondness it made her weak in the knees. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you as well." And she had. An embarrassing amount. "Just think, if we can hardly spend two days apart, how will we spend weeks apart when you have to leave for business and it takes longer?"

"I'll have to take you with me. That's the only solution, of course." He had a teasing glint in his eye, and she smiled playfully in return, tucking her arm into her elbow. "Would you?" She asked, half joking.

"You'd probably be bored nearly to death."

"Being bored is much better than missing you." When she said this, he looked down at her with a surprised look on his face. "I can't picture you going to trips just for business and not wanting to shrivel up and die. Wouldn't you miss running in fields and getting caught in rain?" She was thankful, so thankful, that he was able to act normal with her after her illness and was able to joke with her. Things seemed natural, and after so long of living with her Mother and Elinor and how stiff they were with her for so many weeks after, it was a breath of fresh air to have someone treat her as she was, not as glass that would break at the mention of her past.

"I like running in fields, Colonel, but I like you far more." She met his gaze, and could have sworn he had become choked up after her statement, but he looked away too quickly. She was becoming aware of his feelings, and how unworthy he felt. Perhaps it was due to their difference in age or simply because of how she had treated him not long ago, she was not sure. Thinking of herself being above him in any way, of him not being worthy of her, was laughable in Marianne's mind. She, she thought, was the one who was not worthy of his love and friendship. She had felt blessed to simply have him as a friend, let alone as a..a romantic interest. Her future husband. "I love you far more." She corrected herself. The word "like" was not nearly enough to capture her feelings. Nor was the word love, she realized. What she felt was far beyond what words could express.

They had walked towards where she had been sitting before he had arrived, and she broke away from him briefly, tossing a smile towards him and signalling for him to wait as she went back inside to retrieve the seat he usually sat on. She managed to escape the house without alerting her family, thankful to have another few minutes of privacy with him before they wanted to visit with him as well. She placed the seat in its place, grinning at him. "I'm not sure if you have anything planned-"

"Nothing. Did you have something in mind?" He raised a brow, taking his seat and fighting back a smile. Her enthusiasm still shocked him. The fact that she wanted him to stay..it made his heart leap nearly out of his chest.

"I was about to read Donne." She raised a brow, too, matching his expression. "And I know Donne just happens to be one of your weaknesses and I am willing to bribe you with him in order to convince you to stay." Ha, he thought, as if I'd need convincing.

"I enjoy Donne, but I believe you are my greatest weakness." He took the book from her hand when she sat in front of him, knees nearly touching hers. Sitting so near to her was, perhaps, a touch improper, but they were engaged and the only reason they hadn't already scheduled a date very quickly was because his business was insistent on getting in his way. He would have loved nothing more than to have whisked her away and married her the day after he had proposed. He would marry her, and he would be a gentleman, but he couldn't bear the idea of not touching her at all save for helping her down off the carriage and briefly touching her hand, or leading her into a room with a hand on her back at functions. He craved more, even if it was only having her tucked in his side or his shoulders brushing hers or his legs near hers. He wanted closeness.

"Even greater than Bach?" She said Bach with a look of disgust in her eyes. "Greater than Bach, even though you disappoint me greatly in your taste of composers. At least your taste in books are far better."

"Of course you like my taste in books, most of my books have come from you."

"Well, I do have wonderful taste."

"Of course. You picked me, after all, which shows how wonderful your taste is." They bantered back and forth for several minutes, a smile on both of their faces throughout those moments. He had been around many young women in his time - he had been an eligible bachelor for years, of course, and although he was older than most of them that he'd met lately, and was a bit of a recluse, he was still rather sought after if only for his money and his grand estate. He had been forced into conversations with women who thought that they were potential wives for him (and none of them ever were.) and he had wanted to run away screaming because of most of the topics and how polite they were. And, although he despised the thought of men and women acting like impolite children, he wished that he woud meet someone who would talk to him as a friend, as an equal, instead of a woman who simply agreed with everything he said. And he had found that in Marianne, at last. She was polite in company, but still never allowed herself to be run over. She was intelligent, extremely gifted, and he knew she would be a wonderful hostess and wife. Not only that, but most importantly, she could hold her own with him. He didn't have to dumb down conversation simply because of her presence, in fact, he was challenged daily by her.

"Colonel? Colonel?" Her voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he seemed to notice her just then. "Where were you?"

"Next to you."

"I was talking to you, asking you a question, but you seemed to have been in another world."

"I was dreaming of you playing Bach."

"Please, don't get your hopes up." She paused for a moment, uncrossing her legs and sitting forward until she was close enough to grasp his hands in hers, resting them on his lap. "Really, where were you? Are you tired? You've been riding all day and now I've kept you from resting-"

"I'm perfectly fine and well rested, just easily distracted, I suppose." But she didn't seem too convinced.

"Distracted by what, exactly?" A sparkle returned in her eye, and he glanced around the cottage and could see her mother and Elinor through the window, their backs facing them. Assured that they were indeed in private, he held an arm out for her and pulled her closer until she was resting on his knee. "By you."

"Oh?" She couldn't meet his eyes, now. He very rarely saw a shy version of Marianne, and he was pleasantly surprised to see how he effected her.

"I was lost in thought..thinking of how lucky I am to have you. I don't deserve you, not at all. I hope..I hope you know how very much I care for you. How much I love you." He saw her swallow, a hand rising briefly to her mouth before resting on his shoulder. She sat back, further into his arms, and finally looked at him again. "I love you, too. I'm not sure why you think you're unworthy, Colonel Brandon, but I am completely dedicated to making you feel worthy. Because you are. You are far, far more than worthy. After all I put you through...Willoughby, ho-how mean I was to you. I'm so sor-"

"Don't apologize. It's over and done with, now." He cleared his throat, lifting the copy of Donne from the ground beside him, careful not to lean too much and jostle her, and handed it over. "Now, I believe you promised me John Donne."


	14. A Dashwood In Danger, Part 1

**Authors Note: I AM BACK, at last! I've been reading some lovely stories here about Marianne and our dear Colonel but I've lacked the inspiration needed to write. Here's hoping that it has returned for good! I'm quite out of practice and therefore very unsure of this, but there will be more and I hope I improve more with time! My plan is to continue this story at least until they are married. Stop back soon because this chapter will have a "part two" up soon if all goes to plan with my pesky plot bunnies, and we'll get into Marianne's head a bit more on why she was feeling such an admiration for the Colonel ;)**

Colonel Brandon placed himself into his usual seat in the library of Delaford, blowing a breath out of his mouth unceremoniously as soon as he had landed for what felt like the first time all day. One of his stable hands, his very best one, unfortunately, had fallen ill just the day before and one of his sons, a scrawny boy of ten or so years, had called upon him just after daybreak, relaying the circumstance to one of the Colonel's servants. " _He really does want to work! He was gettin' ready just before I left, sir, but Mama 'stracted him while I ran off to tell you not to let 'em! He really shouldn't be workin' right now!"_ The boy had said, words rushing out of his lips. Colonel Brandon, an early riser, had started his trek down the stairs, already heading to his stables to begin the day, as the boy was speaking, and he excused him-and his father-from work that day, asking them both to rest although his stable hand's son had offered to work as a replacement. He could have helped around the stables, with the animals and what-not, but Brandon knew that he would be far more help for his family at home. The loss of one servant out of many did not seem to be much of a loss to an outsider, but Mr. Brown was an excellent hand and helped keep all operations in line when Brandon could not be here himself, and things seemed to go much smoother with him around. He got plenty of work done in a day, and those jobs ended up falling into the Colonel's lap as he refused to overwork any of his servants. All of them already did plenty enough, and after all, he was plenty capable of doing chores for his household himself, and still fancied himself to be in rather good shape, and obviously still young and limber enough, but with all of the happenings- Elinor and Edward's upcoming wedding and his own engagement being the biggest- he was already losing rest, and the day had taken a toll on him. He glanced down at his apparel, sighing as he caught sight of his muddy boots and breeches, and was just about to ring someone up to draw him a bath in order for him to clean himself up when Mrs. Banes, previously his mother's personal maid but now, one of the people who helped run the house, came rushing into the library. "Sir, I'm so sorry not to knock but you must come quickly!" Her face was enough to concern him, and he jumped up from his seat at the first sign of her worried brow, knees and back protesting at the quick movement after the long day. She had seen quite a lot in her time at Delaford-broken limbs, bruises and blood from him and his brother as they grew up, emergencies with servants, animals and other things-and nothing had fazed her quite like this.

"Mrs. Banes, what on earth-" Before he could finish, she was explaining what she knew. "All I know is it's one of the Dashwood's, sir, I don't know more-" And he was rushing out of the library, running to the stables and saddling a horse, galloping towards the cottage as quickly as he could.

As he rode to the cottage, his mind was racing and his stomach was churning. He thought of Marianne; she had been doing so very well, the doctor giving her a completely clean bill of health not even two weeks ago after Mrs. Dashwood had asked him to come and check on her, always concerned over her middle daughter. She was bright and happy, her skin had returned to a healthy shade, and she had gained most of the weight that her illness had taken from her. She seemed happy, always eager to go for walks or rides with him. He had to work on keeping up with her whims and fancies, and he could not imagine how her health could change so drastically in a day, as he had just seen her the day before. He imagined carriage accidents and other things. She had sprained her ankle once, perhaps she had fallen again? Thankfully, before his mind could go to somewhere much worse and even more terrifying, he had arrived at his destination, and when he saw Marianne Dashwood standing outside of the cottage, he had wanted to cry out in relief. She had her head cradled in her hands, her back slouched over as if she was crying, but when she heard the sound of hoofbeats, she lifted her head and seemed to beam at him in relief past her tears and worry. She was not at ease, but she was fine physically, and she was _alive_. He dismounted his horse before it had slowed to a stop and left him tied at the gate, rushing to her side. "Marianne? What has happened?" He scanned her face for sign of fever without even noticing it himself, for any sign that she was not truly fine, but found none.

"Oh, Colonel!" And she was suddenly in his arms, her own going around his neck as she stood on her toes, reaching for him as quickly as she could. "Margaret! Sh-she fell, from her treehouse. She was trying to climb down and fell. She-oh, God, she won't wake up!" And he was returning her embrace, not caring for propriety in the slightest. The cottage sat far away from any other houses or towns, any how, and they were not near any prying eyes, nor did he think that it would be an issue given the circumstances. His stomach churned at the thought of something happened to "Captain" Margaret; she was a strong, lively young girl, very similar to his beloved Marianne in many ways, but also a lovely mixture of the two sisters. She was destined for greatness, if only she would not be held back by her gender. He was very fond of her, already feeling more like her brother than just a family friend, and he could hardly imagine her weak or sickly.

"Has the doctor arrived?" He took a quick glance around the roads, concerned over the poor weather. It had stormed for days straight and the roads were horribly muddy. He prayed that it would not postpone the doctor. If Margaret suffered from a concussion, things could take a very bad turn quickly, especially since she still remained unconscious. His mind went back to his days in India, having quite a lot of experience with injuries such as this, but quickly cast his thoughts away. _No, we are not in India, and Margaret will not have such a morbid fate to die alone and frightened as many soldiers did so very often._

"He had just walked in when you arrived." Colonel Brandon turned his gaze upon Marianne, still in his arms, her face hidden as she held him closely to her. He placed a gloved hand on her hair, stroking it as a feeble attempt to give any sort of comfort that he could, before gently pushing her head away from his coat to see her face; she was fighting tears, her green eyes glistening with tears that she tried so very hard to fight back.

"Marianne, you have a very strong, very resilient sister." She sniffed, nodding her head in agreement, but still plagued with her doubts. He continued, "It is more than likely a simple concussion, or perhaps she went into shock. She will be fine. I have never seen any stronger of women than the Dashwood's." When her eyes met his, she spotted the ghost of a smile that was so very _him,_ and she felt her heart lighten, if only a bit.

"I do. She is very strong."

Brandon took her arm and slid it though his, beginning the short walk towards the cottage entrance. "You need to go inside. It's far too cold for you to be out of doors for long."

"You worry too much. I'm not going to wither away or contract another fever from chilly weather." He raised a brow, now guiding her into the house with a gentle hand. "I'd rather not take the risk."

"There is hardly any risk at all." She laughed then, surprising him. She, like her youngest sister, was resilient. "Then again, I don't think that there was much of a risk for a woman to nearly die because she liked taking walks in rain, or much of a risk of receiving a possibly life threatening injury because of a tree house."

"It won't threaten her life." They walked through the doorway then, Colonel Brandon allowing her to step into the cottage before him as he slid the door shut silently. He suddenly was at a loss for words; what do you say in situations like this? He remembered how things were when Marianne was so sick, when they were unsure if she would make it through. He hadn't trusted his voice then, knowing for certain that if he talked, his voice would show his emotions far too clearly. If he had lost control, it would have only made matters worse for Marianne's family and friends. He was thankful for the long ride to Mrs. Dashwood although he had been exhausted. It was a chance to grasp at composure.

Marianne took a seat in the parlor and glanced up at him, breaking him out of his thoughts when he looked down and saw her gaze. She smiled weakly before letting out a breath and leaning back further into the seat, still looking at him in an odd way that he could not name. Some odd mixture of worry and what he thought looked quite a bit like...admiration? Although he couldn't quite grasp why she would be feeling such a thing towards him, at least not now when he had done nothing grand to earn it. He was here...but that was his duty, to be here. They were engaged to be married, a couple. This was his duty, husband and wife yet or not.

"Marianne?" He finally broke the silence, taking the empty seat next to the couch that she had sat on and moving it closer. "Is something wrong?" It seemed like a ridiculous question to ask, considering what was going on upstairs. Doctors. Margaret. Injuries. Stress.

"I wonder...what I've ever done to deserve you." His eyes had trailed to his boots but jolted up to meet hers once more, widening with shock. Where had that come from? He knew that she cared for him, obviously. Marianne Dashwood was not the type of woman to agree to marry a man that she cared nothing for. And her excitement and gratitude when he arrived that very evening showed plenty of love. She had told him that she loved him and he believed her, but such admiration? He was used to being talked about, being gloated about by other men in the Army for his actions and so called bravery, used to others telling him that he was a good man, but the compliments had always seemed empty to him. Marianne never said anything that she didn't feel strongly.

"I believe you have things backwards, Miss Marianne." She opened her mouth to speak; to argue, of course, but they began to hear footsteps on the staircase and the doctor, along with Mrs. Dashwood-where Elinor was, he was not sure-made his way to the door. He and Marianne jumped from their seats, his arm going around her back instinctively, waiting for bad news or good news or no news at all, wishing to soften any sort of blow, to shield her from any more pain.

"Mama?" Marianne could barely speak, her heart in her throat.

"She's awake. Awake and bossing us all around." They all gave a sigh of relief, at Mrs. Dashwood's words, the doctor stepping closer to Marianne and the Colonel. "She has a concussion; a mild one, and will have quite the ache in her head, but she will be just fine. She went into shock which caused the fainting spell. Her back will also be quite sore for some time, she seems to have hit it on the way down."

"She-she landed on her back. I saw." Marianne murmured. Brandon held her waist tighter.

"She'll recover, Marianne." He muttered this quietly towards her ear, releasing her at last although he wished that it was not a necessity. He had perhaps overstepped near the doctor and her mother, but he found that he cared very little. "She will."


End file.
